Sparks
by Lily Amazon
Summary: Because that's what they all are, warm people shining with happiness, yet facing their own stifling shadows. A collection of one-shots centered on Whitebeard's crew.
1. Getting Old (Izo)

Author's note: So I just realized that unlike Fanfic-Fr, there's no "Author's note" fields in the Story Manager. That sucks. Anyway...

Welcome here, you bold reader! I'm totally scared by what I'm about to do, meaning publishing this text because long story short I'm French. And it's the first time I'm writing fanfiction in English, not mentioning writing on One Piece. My apologies about the mistakes you might find while reading (feel free to show them to me).

 _Sparks_ will be a one-shot's collection by the way. Mainly focusing on the Whitebeard's pirates and including some OCs because I wanted/needed to.  
The song I listened to for _Getting old_ was Andrea Perry and Lily Hickman Waldon's _Awake_.

I'll stop talking now, and I'll meet you down the page. Hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I loved writing it.

Oh, and before I forget it: thank you Corail Chérie for being such a kind proofreader.

* * *

 **Sparks – Getting old**

It was quite a quiet night on the Moby Dick. After an usual little party, all of his drunk brothers had fallen asleep except for the poor fellow on night watch in the crow's nest. Even Ace and his not-so-well-hidden regular insomnia seemed to have vanished somewhere else on the ship. And there he was, leaning against the railing, his softly smoking _kiseru_ in his hands, spacing out into the starry darkness. Izo wasn't really the kind of man to worry about the future. He had found what he wasn't looking for years ago and was quite happy with this family and their way of living. But a part of him knew that all this wasn't meant to last forever. He let out a sigh and gulped the rest of his cup of _sake_. What was the point torturing himself with all of this now eh?

A door opened not far from him and he heard a relieved yawn followed by some lazy footsteps. Marco was still stretching when he came to his brother's side.

"Izo? Still awake? What about your beauty sleep yoi?" The flat tone didn't even surprise him. He has been such a pain about his needed hours of rest that now everybody knew how sleep matters to him.

"I'll catch it up another day I guess," he chuckled, still looking at the sea. "Make up really makes wonder anyhow. Did all this insane paperwork hold you hostage until now?"

"Yup, but it's finally over, well, until next week. Ah... Sometimes I don't get it. Why do I even have to keep a record on the number of tow— Nevermind..." He frowned, looking at the slightly shaking hands of his brother, changing the tobacco in his pipe before lighting it. "What's bothering you yoi?"

"It's no big deal," Izo replied after taking a long puff. "Feeling old and stuff..."

The first mate tittered, trying to cheer his friend up. "Feeling old? C'mon, we're in our brightest days ! You'll have the right to worry when you'll be older than Pops, not 'til then yoi."

"But I do worry." He faced his brother. "Since Ace joined us something has changed. I don't blame him, he's such a nice kid... Still, he's so young that it has reminded me of my own age and the crew's. And I can't help but wondering what will happen in five or ten years."

"I get it, Izo. But Pops is well. And even if the medical staff is discreet, Jill and the nurses are really cautious. Our father is fine," he said, instilling truth in each of his words.

"Thanks Marco." The cross-dresser smiled. "I know he is. You just have to look how he has beaten the shit out of our hothead _while_ _sleeping_."

They both laughed, remembering the look on Thatch's face when he understood that he will have to fish a drowning Ace out of the sea. Marco turned his back to the soothing waves and looked at the deserted deck, noticing some remaining bottles. He left to fetch the fuller ones and came back to Izo, sitting down against the railing with a determined sigh.

Somehow, he knew it wasn't over. His brother was the kind of man to only tell you the small part of his concern. He needed time to sort it all out in his head first, before even considering entrusting his inner struggle to someone. And now was the time for him to ease his mind, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.

"Want some?" Marco asked, pouring rum in a borrowed tankard.

"Sure do." He gave the Phoenix his cup before joining him on the wooden floor, his elbow resting on his right knee. He smoothed absent-mindedly some invisible lines on his grey _yukata_ out.

"All right. Spit it out," said his brother, handing him the now filled cup.

"No... You don't have to worry about my annoying existential crisis. It'll fade away just like it has come," he answered, waving his hand.

"Izo..." The look in Marco's eyes wasn't his usual half bored half annoyed one. He was glaring at him seriously. The dark haired man glanced back to his hands, playing with the alcohol in his cup, before letting out a sigh.

"I won't survive him. I don't want to."

The first commander straightened up, startled. "But..."

"No. I've made up my mind. _Oyaji_ is in his early seventies and I'm glad of it. We're so lucky is still with us... But I'm in my late thirties and I'll turn forty in the blink of an eye. Getting old, well, that's not what I want, that's not why I was raised for."

"I don't understand."

"I wasn't expecting you to." He smiled softly, taking a sip of rum. "You know a bit about my life before joining the crew. I was born in the Wa Country, the last of my siblings. My mother wanted a girl and raised me like one. I always have been told that my beauty and my good manners were all I have, all I needed. I was up to every beauty standards in Wa and yet I was nobody. A man dressing like a woman, such a shame for a recognised warrior family like mine. However, my beauty was my pride, and still is. I love the way I look. I love the man all of you made me become."

"What's the problem then?"

"There's none! I just want to die while I'm still young and handsome. That's all."

"But..." Marco wasn't getting it.

"Look, I love my life with all of you, I couldn't have expected better. But knowing that one day, we'll be on our own, without _Oyaji_ , and that time will still fly by, disfiguring me, making me old and wrinkled, it's just making me want to jump overboard."

"When?"

"When?" Izo repeated, uncertain.

"When will you kill yourself? So I can plan your funerals." Marco's fists clenched in anger as a sad smile stretched Izo's lips. "Ah... See, I shouldn't have told you."

"Yeah, that way you could have disappeared from day to day."

"Marco, that's not—"

"That's not what you said? C'mon, just admit it. Just admit how selfish, how vain, how self-important you think you are!" He was shouting out at Izo, still smiling, a provoking and amused glimpse in his eyes. "I thought you'll stay more collected as the first mate."

"I'm not your first mate, I'm your brother and we're talking about your death, for God's sake!"

"I know, I know. Please calm down. Take a sip of rum... There... Now listen. I'm vain and selfish, that's true. But I'm not going to disappear from day to day. I was just telling you that what I fear the most, except losing _Oyaji_ or one of you, was to get old. To let the time disfigured me without doing anything. I can't stand it. I know you don't care how I look, but for me it matters. 'Cause my handsomeness is a major element of my life. Thanks to it I was able to survive in this dark and cruel world. I was able to survive until I found you all. So I can't toss it back like it was nothing. I just can't."

"Stop frowning that much, then," Marco said harshly before calming down. Izo's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Touché!" he chuckled. "Do you get it now?"

"I think I do."

"As long as _Oyaji_ 's alive, you don't have to fear anything. Well, even if he... Ah... I don't know." He ran his hands through his hair, bringing chaos to his previously perfect bun. "It's just how I'm feeling now. I was thinking about my life, about our father getting old too, about life here being way too joyful to be true and last forever and... I don't know... I got scared. Sorry."

"It's alright, Izo. I'm glad you opened up and told me what was on your mind. That's also what we're here for. Not only fighting, partying and drinking, but also listening to each other when there's something wrong. Okay?"

"Yeah, got it. Thanks."

"Yet, next time you talk about your own death so insensitively, I'll kick your ass off to the moon and back. And you perfectly know I can with those phoenix wings I have," he said, a hint of entertainment in his dark eyes.

"I've never been to the moon! I'll look forward to it then," the cross-dresser laughed, taking another bottle of rum.

And all of a sudden, life seemed as bright as before. Death didn't really matter anymore. He was there, with one of his many brothers, enjoying that starry summer night. There was just a little dark stain on this idyllic picture.

"Can you—"

"Keep this for myself? Of course I can. And I will, unless all of this affects your judgment as a commander or worries me too much. In that case, I'll tell Pops and we'll find a way to get some common sense into that thick skull of yours."

"Deal!" he grinned, reassured.

The door opened again, revealing a dishevelled and sleepy Thatch. Wrapped up in a duvet, he came closer to the two commanders, staring at him wide-eyed, a grumpy look on his face.

"Thatch... Your... Your hair!" Izo gasped, trying hard not to laugh.

"Yeah. I know. Welcome back to the real world," he grumbled, running a hand through his uncombed haircut.

"What happened Thatch? A nightmare? Did you dream about being chased by flying potatoes again?" Marco grinned.

"Believe it or not, I would have preferred that," he growled, noticing the bottles of rum and taking a swig from one of them.

"Oh, c'mon! Cut the suspense Thatch! What happened?" Izo wasn't really known for his patience toward some of his brothers. Marco chuckled, feeling the general mood lighten. Thatch stories were always fun and entertaining, even if most of the time they were only making fun of his own misfortunes.

"When I went to bed, passably drunk, everything was normal. I was having a well-deserved good night's sleep in our dormitory and then I've been waking up with a start by some barbaric snoring! So now there's only one thing I want to know, Marco. When will Jozu get back to wherever the hell his ship is?"

They both laughed at the angry tone of their brother. Poor Thatch. Being a light sleeper really wasn't an advantage in such a big crew.

"He said he was leaving tomorrow," a deep voice interrupted from the higher deck.

"Thank goodness!" yelled the fourth commander, adjusting his duvet while sitting cross-legged, facing his friends.

The newcomer, who was none other than Ace, walked down the stairs with an incredible agility considering the late hour, and came nearer the noisy men. "Seriously guys, don't you have enough time to talk and laugh during the day?"

"That's not sufficient, obviously!" Izo grinned. "Did we wake you up?"

"Nah, I was just resting on the Moby's bow, enjoying the stars... and that bloody welcomed silence."

The young man perched himself on the railing and pushed back his head to look at the glowing sky, his orange hat hanging down in his back.

"Was your crew a quiet one?" Marco wondered.

"The Spades? Hell no! Always ready to party. You just have to look how they just fit in with your crew! Such a foregone conclusion..."

"Guess you have a point, they're never the last to join us for a drink. By the way, what about you Ace? You alright? I thought you were already sleeping," the cross-dresser said.

"You know what they say. I'll get all the sleep I need when I'll be dead!" he smiled before seeing the discontented eyes of his brothers. "Which will not happen before a looong looooong time, I swear!" he carried on before he went back to glaring at the sky. "Ah, it doesn't matter... I enjoy that atmosphere too much to deprive me of it anyway."

"That atmosphere?" Thatch asked, a bit lost.

"Yeah, that quiet mood. At night time seems to go by slowly. Everyone's sleeping. You can hear the waves crashing against the ship and the wind filling the sails and the wood lightly cracking. Not mentioning that amazing sky. The day life on board is cool, but at night... I don't know. You really can believe that you're alone sailing deeper and deeper into the New World. And even so, you know you're not all by yourself and that's great! It's like another life, showing you how free you are," the teenager finally concluded, widely grinning to his elder brothers. They nodded.

"How can you use so many words at such a late hour?" Thatch scoffed, weary, before smiling softly. "I understand though." He yawned, followed by Marco and Ace, making Izo laugh. "Ace, those two are already beyond saving," he said, pointing his brothers out, "but if you stay awake too long, you'll have permanent dark-ringed eyes before you realised it, believe me!"

"And you'll have to borrow Izo's makeup to conceal it!" Thatch added a cheerful grin on his face.

"Like I'll lend it to him!" Izo said, outraged. "Ew, I'll go get some sleep then!" The teen chuckled as he jumped off the railing and walked back to the door, waving goodnight to his _nakama_.

Once he was gone, the silence fell over the three of them. Thatch fought off the sleep while Marco seemed lost in his thoughts. "He's so cute," Izo whispered, thinking of their youngest brother.

"Yeah, like a lone wolf cub," Thatch said, his voice slightly muffled. Izo chuckled at the comparison. "I'm glad he's with us. It seems so right. Like we were missing something before he was there! Isn't it insane?"

"What's insane is the amount of food he can stuff down!" the Chef retorted. "But, yeah, you're right. He's starting to fit just fine. That's great. And geez, have you seen that dazzling smile he gave us?"

"Yes, too much happiness in just one human being! Good to see though, he seems so withdrawn sometimes. What do you think Marco?"

The first commander got to his feet and let out a deep sigh. "He's finally part of our family, that's a big thing for him, but he'll come around. Yet, as Commanders and older brothers, we'll have to be careful. You've seen it. As happy-go-lucky and sunny as he seemed, he also has his own insecurities, his own shadows. And his youth won't help him..."

"Don't worry Marco, we'll keep an eye on him, like we always did for each and every one of us." Thatch said, standing up in turn, a sleepy yet assured smile stretching his lips. "I'm not worried, well not that much," Marco said flatly as Izo rose. "Let's sleep on it. We deserve some rest, anyway."

"Thatch's right. We'll look after him. That's also why brothers are here for, right?" Izo winked at Marco while following his brothers to the door.

The three brothers disappeared in the depths of the ship, and the Moby Dick's deck found peace again, only troubled by the wind, the waves and a quiet snoring from the crow's nest.

* * *

Thank you for reading. So, how was it?

As I said earlier, feel free to show me the mistakes you found/give me pieces of advice and stuff.

I don't know when I'll be posting another one-shot, even though I'm still in the middle of writing one, the head full of lovely plot bunnies, because I want to translate and publish this one in French first (sounds long and difficult even for me huh).

See you around,  
Lily.

Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting


	2. Not looking back (Part 1)

Author's note : Hello there !

First, I want to thank frappyrouge123, charlebois, Hiken no Furia, Dreamyyyyyy, catscats1223, JayJayftw, StarliteOracle and Nettle-Inis for their follow and/or fav'. And I repeat my thanks to frappyrouge123 and StarliteOracle for their reviews.

I'm glad to see some of you enjoyed this first one-shot. I had planned posting several in November and December, but well, I didn't have much time and the one I'm still writing is way longer than expected. It's currently around 9k words and seeing how the characters have decided to be quite talkative, it would most likely pass the 10k in the end.

So, here I am, thinking of you and how I could reward your patience (as well as enjoying myself). So I decided to split this OS in half, and to give you the first part.

This one-shot is about the past of one of my OC's because I needed you to know her a bit more before posting other stories.  
The songs I listened to while writing were " _Looking to closely_ " from Fink and Michael Kiwanuka's " _Cold Little Heart_ ".

 **Warning though.**  
The following text deals with tough events. There's **graphic depiction of violence and "medical" procedures** (yeah, I found a great way to extend my vocabulary, searching for words I won't use in real life). So I'm not really sure of the rating I should apply. But you're warned. And do tell me if you think I should make it M rather than T.

I hope you'll enjoy reading this first part as much as I loved writing it.

And again, thank you Corail Chérie for you proofreading, even if this one was kind of hard.

* * *

 **Sparks – Not looking back (Part 1)**

A late afternoon breeze ruffled Ace's hair as he was resting against the railing. The sun was slowly setting, turning the blue sky into an orangy one. He had sparred with some of his brothers most of the day and was now enjoying the restored calm, only disturbed by a few laughter.

Jill was next to him, perched on the wooden railing, reading what seemed to be a medical book. The Moby's doctor liked to be outside her office when there were no emergencies her nurses couldn't handle. One more time she frowned and raised her eyes from the page, lacking in thoughts, as a slight move caught her gaze. The warm wind was tousling some raven hair and suddenly she couldn't stop her hand from reaching those soft strands. Absent-mindedly playing with the hat on his lap, Ace jumped at the touch.

"Sorry." She smiled."It's so soft, it's reminding me of my brother's hair. Do you mind?"

"I don't," he replied quietly, smiling back. His eyes widened as she closed her book and started to move, nearly stepping over him to tower his head. She ran her gentle hands through his hair as he shut his eyes, pleasantly surprised.

He had considered going away from her grasp, but it was a kind gesture. It felt good, even though it was the first time someone was stroking his locks like that. Thatch had done this from time to time, but only to make fun of him. It was rougher though. This was... nice? Yeah, definitely. The caring touch of a caring woman.

"What's your brother's name?" he asked, eyes still shut.

"Tom. A great name for such an annoying older brother!"

"And where is he?"

"Still on my home island I guess. I got a letter from him some months ago. He seemed to be fine," she said, still moving her hands. If he could, he would have purred when she started to slowly massage his scalp. He let a satisfied sigh out. "Sounds like you're enjoying it, uh?" she went on, smiling. "My brother loved it too. He'd always let me do whatever I wanted with his hair."

Ace relaxed, slowly giving in to the railing's side until it wholly held his head. Nothing mattered more than the warm feeling that was spreading in his body. He had never felt that way in years. He welcomed that inner peace with a small smile and dozed off, wrapped up in this comfortable feeling.

A lopsided grin took over Jill's features as she noticed the even and deep breathing of the teenager. His strands of hair were as soft as silk. That was insane. No wonder why Izo seemed so bitter about it sometimes. She lifted her head to look at the deck and all the pirates gathered here and there. None of them was paying attention. Her smile widened as a funny idea came to her mind. Grabbing something in the pocket of her jacket, she collected a few loose strands of black hair and tied them in a topknot. She held back a laugh. Ace looked so young and cute that way.

That was the time Thatch and Izo choose to come on the main deck. The Fourth Commander was probably done ordering his cooking staff for the upcoming dinner.

"Hey!" she whispered, waving her hands to draw their attention. They both looked twice before understanding what they were seeing and burst into laughter, quickly silenced by her frown and shush. It wasn't in Jill's habits to do pranks.

They came closer, realising the pleased smiles of both their doctor and their brother, for obviously different reasons.

"I don't want to wake him up," she explained, still whispering, "he seemed to need it."

"Man, he really looks like a kid!" the Chef said.

"Yeah, it suits him in a way. That's insanely cute. So, tell me Jill, is his hair as silky as it seems?" Izo wondered.

"You have no idea, dear!" She grinned mischievously as the cross-dresser grumbled. "He reminds me of Tom somehow..." She peered down at him, a fond yet melancholic expression on her face. The commanders looked at each other before staring at the brunette.

"Did you have news from him recently?" a frowning Thatch asked.

"Yeah, some months ago. He was fine. Must be busy. Just like I am. We both have our lives."

"You have the right to miss him, you know that?" Izo said cautiously.

"I-I know. And I do..." She finally sighed. "I'll send him a letter. Stop looking at me like I'm about to burst into tears. That's not going to happen." She smiled once again. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some hair to stroke!" She winked, putting her hands gently on top of Ace's head.

"Alright then. But you shouldn't remove that hair band, it'll be fun!" Thatch grinned, still whispering as they made their way to the upper deck.

When the two men were out of sight, she untied his hair. The joke had lasted long enough. She knew how proud the boy was. If he woke up like this, no doubt he would feel humiliated, betrayed even. And she never intended to make him feel that way, not after he had finally let his guard down.

She resumed her caress and wondered why she was feeling so nostalgic. From time to time she had missed her brother of course, but not to the point of being that sad. She had made a choice years back then. They both had. Yet she never thought she would want to see him that much.

She was staring into space again when a shape caught her attention. Almost unnoticeable at first, it gradually materialized and her eyes widened in shock. She knew the man that was standing in front of her. Red hair, three-day stubble and an accusing gaze, he hadn't changed, still looking so young. And for good reason, for that matter, he had died years ago. From gunshot injuries if she remembered well.

She was used to seeing those kind of people. Those ghosts as she called them, even though she knew they weren't real, but only a painful invention of her mind. She saw them even before joining Whitebeard. There were two sorts of ghosts, those who were trying to warn her about something, and those who only were the materialisation of her guilt, of her failure as a doctor, to not let her forget about how useless and powerless she once had been. Because all the ghosts she saw were the people that had died in her hands.

She shivered as the ginger boy looked down at Ace. She fought against the urge to take him to a safer place. There was no need to panic. He was scary but he wasn't real. She would just have to remember where and when he died and he'll fade away. She closed her eyes, feeling the broad bulwark she was sitting on and Ace's warmth underneath her. Who was this dead boy again?

Suddenly it hit her. He died nine years ago, the day before she joined Edward Newgate and his crew. And there she was, sent back in her past. Her home island, windswept and lively. Her brother's smile. Her house, her mentor, her afternoons in the infirmary. The waving flag at the harbour's entrance. She vividly recalled everything.

Suim Island, also known as The Jellyfish Haven, was located in the first part of the New World. Despite being a spring island, it was almost constantly blown by warm winds. Several hundreds of people were living out of farming, fishing and trading. Most of their wealth came from seastone's underwater deposits and their ancestral extracting method, known by only a few members of their community. As a rather small island, the seastone output couldn't match the Marine's need, who turned to more productive islands, letting the Suim inhabitants do whatever they wanted to with their production.

She was in her early twenties at that time, living in the family home with her big brother. Her father was a merchant, always sailing between several islands to sell what the residents made. Her mother had left them when she was still a child, unable to stand her husband's absence anymore. Jill had left school at sixteen to help Elli, the old island doctor, and to learn medicine. She wanted to be useful. She always did the house chores when Tom asked to, often help classmates with their homework... Yet, she never wanted to be a teacher, she wasn't much of a cook neither and housewife wasn't a tempting job in her opinion. It was when she saw how efficient Elli was when he treated people that she knew she wanted to be like him. She begged the aged doctor for months until he finally gave up and took her as an apprentice.

And there she was, four years later, helping her mentor as the second doctor in the island. That day, she had brought some medicines to the market and bought some basic medical supplies for the infirmary and her first-aid bag and went back to Elli. The elderly gentleman wasn't able to go around the island anymore. Jill had taken the helm some months ago and was visiting people who needed treatment all around Suim and on the nearby islands, while Elli was seeing patients in his office.

They had received a few calls from Miossu's City Hall. She took her dinghy and set sail for a fifteen minute crossing, the warm winds driving her faster. When she reached the harbour, she went to the Town Hall to greet the mayor and check the patients' address before setting off. As she was going around Miossu's villages, admiring the green windswept landscapes, some strange noise caught her attention. Like loud detonations. She was surprised, because no one, not even the mayor, had warned her about that day being a hunting day. A bit more careful, she resumed her journey and smiled at the laughing and running kids that passed her, feeling something familiar with the red-dressed girl telling the boys to hurry.

It was when she went out of the last house, waving at the old lady that was thanking her, that she understood. There was smoke rising from her island. Way too much smoke to only be a camp fire or anything. Hearing some detonations once again, it hit her and she started running down to the harbour. Halfway, she almost bumped into the red and breathless mayor. "Faith! I was... looking... for you... Bandits are attacking Suim!"

That was right. At that time, she was still Faith, the embodiment of the hope and love she had brought to her family when she was born.

"I know, I have to go back there!" She was slightly panicking, wondering who those bandits were and what the extent of the damage would be when she would set foot on the island. She wasn't that much of a fighter, even though Tom had given her a self-defence training for years on a weekly basis. But she still could help, as a doctor.

They ran down at a fast pace, the mayor telling her that he would alert the other islands and send some backup to help Suim getting rid of those robbers. Not minding the people that stepped away at her entrance into the harbour, she jumped on her boat and started sailing back, annoyed by the slowness of the ship. The wind was filling the sail, yet it wasn't fast enough for her. As she waited, staying on course, she took her bag off and threw the useless stuff for dealing with battle injuries, before grabbing her green _den den mushi_. She dialled the number she had memorized years ago, the one she should call as a last resort, as an ultimate and never dreamed of lifeline. After two tones, someone answered. She hadn't even taken the time to hear them before saying: "I am Faith Jillian Sade from Suim Island. We're currently under attack. They're not the usual thieves we're used to deal with. I can see three medium-sized boats with black sails and an unknown Jolly Roger. They must have heavy armaments... Cannons or something. They have already docked in the main harbour and considering the smoke, they probably have set several buildings on fire. Some nearby islands are sending us help but they won't make it in time. I'm going back there for medical assistance but we'll need your back up as soon as possible. Have I made myself clear enough or do you need extra information?" She held her breath, hoping the line hasn't been cut while she was speaking. She heard some curse and the noise of crumpled paper.

"I'm Izo, Whitebeard's Sixteenth Commander. We're already changing direction. None of our boats are near your island, but we'll try to reach you as fast as possible. You'll have to hang on. Tell your people to hide wherever they can and don't endanger yourself neither. If none of you are a match for them, better run than fight and get killed." The _den den mushi_ was frowning, embodying the concern of the commander. Faith took a deep breath.

"Alright. Most of them must already be hidden. I'm almost there. I have to go. We'll wait for you. Suim Island. Three ships. Don't lag behind." And she hanged up her snail phone, not even waiting for another answer.

She weighed her options as the island came closer and closer and finally choose to dock in a small beach near the main harbour. Checking her bag once more, she braced herself, remembering Elli's advices about attacks and fight injuries. She also thought of her training with Tom. All would be alright. She knew what to do. She would help people.

She took another deep breath when the hull of her ship scraped the bottom of the bay and jumped quickly on the beach, before starting running at a small, regular pace. She'd be in the town center soon enough, no need to be spotted by the enemies yet.

Like in Miossu, she first heard chaos before seeing it. Detonations still echoed randomly, but it wasn't from cannons anymore. They were using guns now. No longer aiming at the buildings. She then heard the yells and the cries, of terror, of pain, of despair. Not taking any shortcuts to meet the disaster, she nimbly weaved in and out the maze of dirt roads and cluster houses and ordered the residents she came across to go back to their homes and hide. That was all they could do. Wait for the attacks to cease, wait for the backup to come. And she understood how terrifying it could be. At least she had a role to play, she could be useful. Those men and women just had to wait.

She finally got near the town centre and left the relative safety the byways had provided her. As she set foot on the now cobbled street, she thought that today was either her lucky day or the day she was going to die alongside the people she cared about.

The sight of utter chaos was added to the already unbearable sounds. The main street was a mess. Luckily enough, the enemies seemed to be far further, probably heading to the City Hall. The area was clear. Well, as clear as it could be when a town is under attack. Boxes and barrels from nearby stores were shattered everywhere. The smell of gunpowder and flames was filling the atmosphere. They had set the tavern on fire, spreading glowing sparks and dark smoke in the air.

She saw several bodies, lying on the floor, some of them totally still, fresh blood dripping from various injuries. Shit. Shit. Shit. She ran to the closest one and didn't even stop to check on him, realizing the bullet hole in his head and his empty eyes. The second one was still alive, a gash crossing her abdomen. Not deep enough to be lethal. The woman was breathing heavily, and pain shone in her eyes when Faith pressed gauze on the cut.

"It h-hurts."

"I know. Sorry. I have to make it worse before you feel better. Can you take it? There... Press the harder you can. What happened?" she asked as she was filling a syringe with pain killers.

"B-bounty hunters' p-pirates. T-too many. Want o-our seastone. I tried to s-stop them b-but—"

"It's alright. Kemi, is it? I'm going to give you something to ease the pai, 'cause you need quick stitches. I'll be as fast and precise as I can, so we can move you to a safer place."

"O-okay."

She injected the painkillers and instinctively protected the woman's body with her own when another detonation rang and ground a nearby house to dust and stone debris. Of course. Boats couldn't be empty. They needed some space for retreat. She suppressed a shudder and looked down to Kemi.

"Alright, new plan. We move you to a safer place first and then I close that wound." She took the time to give her a small smile. "It's gonna be alright. You should already be feeling the effects of the pain killers kicking in. I need you to keep pressing the cut to lessen the flow of blood. Can you do that?"

The woman assented.

"Great, now let's go." Moving a casualty wasn't the ideal solution but she knew the woman could handle it. She wasn't tall or strong enough to carry her so she grabbed her shoulders and dragged her away from the ravaged streets, in a small and rather clean path nearby. That has been quick but painful. Tears were running down the woman's cheeks as she had tried not to yell. "Sorry. It's over now. We're not moving you anymore."

"Well, at least not in the minutes to come," she thought for herself. "Okay, time to patch you up. I can't give you more pain killers so it'll hurt, but I'll be as fast as possible so once I'm done you can rest and heal."

Kemi removed her hands from the now red gauze as Faith was extracting her stitching kit from her bag. She gave her a comforting smile before focusing on the gash. She counted to three before spilling antiseptic in the wound, trying not to mind the woman yell, muttering another bunch of sorry. She rapidly stitched the injury and applied a bandage before checking on the woman who had paled but was still conscious. As she was working, some residents had gone out of their houses, not minding the danger, to help the others. She called several of them and they took charge of Kemi as she ran out of the path toward another wounded man.

Two bullet wounds in his chest, two others in his legs, it was a miracle he was still conscious and breathing. She took account of all the blood he had already lost and knew he was beyond saving. But she couldn't leave him, not now.

"Faith... Where are they?" he whispered, his face pale, shaking. "I've called them, Zon. They're on their way. But they won't make it in time, not anymore."

"Shit!" he grimaced before coughing. The tavern was still burning, detonations randomly ringing to the goodwill of those damn destroyers.

"Yeah, you name it... Hey, you!" she yelled as she caught sight of a man with a blanket in his hands. "Come over here. I need this cover." The man agreed and swore when he reached them, recognizing Zon. "Holy shit! What can I do?"

"He's in shock, we'll have to keep him warm. Give me that cover." She spread it all over his body as the newcomer knelt down next to them. "I have to check on the other victims. Can you stay with him?" she asked, "I'll come back Zon. You just have to hang on 'til they arrive. Alright?"

The man gave her a smile, seeing right through it, but not blaming her. "Yeah, sure, sweetie. A shame... they burned down... our tavern... A glass of whisky would have been nice now. Maybe... Elli could share for once, eh?"

She stood up, ready to answer, when Zon's acquaintance grabbed her ankle, looking up to her, uncertainty in his green serious eyes. "What can I do?"

"Take his hand, talk to him. And smile. That's all he needs now." And without giving them a second glance, she ran toward another group of wounded people.

That was how two hours went by. Shocked people everywhere, some yelling, some crying, some totally silent. And Faith, running from one to another, examining, bandaging, stitching, giving pain killers, reducing fractures, doing the best she could, failing to do enough.

When she finally had treated all the injured people she could in the town centre and near the harbour, she headed to the marketplace, where the City Hall, the school and Elli's office were. She hoped they had been reasonable enough to give the pirates what they wanted. That was the only way to minimise the number of victims, to avoid any more death. She also hoped some of the guards had shot down several of those bastards. They deserved it.

The marketplace was a mess. Just like the main streets, most of the stalls, barrels and boxes were destroyed. But fortunately the residents had more time to hide and there was only a limited amount of victims, lying on the floor.

She ran toward one of them, evaluating her injuries, making a mental list of all the things she had to do to help her. They talked a bit as she took her in charge and she learned that Miossu's reinforcements had come, but were defeated and that two of their boats were currently sailing around Suim to blindside their ships and sink them. They then heard more detonations from the harbour and the sea, meaning the fight had begun.

She was bandaging the victim's arm when she heard laughter as a part of the bounty hunters' pirates emerged from the Town Hall. "Ahahah that was a pleasure doing business with you, Mayor! All this seastone will come in handy!"

That was the chief of the bandits. She saw him and the rest of his men, partially hidden with her patient behind some crates. A black bearded slim man with a bloody sword in his right hand. She hoped they were done and would leave without rampaging anymore. They would need time to clean all this up, to heal every bodies and minds.

Lost in thought, she hadn't even detected the woman sudden dread. "What do you think you're doing?" someone asked, as something cold connected with the back of her head. The barrel of a gun, no doubt. She put her hands up instinctively before turning around to face the threat and calmly answered to him. "I'm trying to save those people's lives."

The blond massive man snorted, looking down on her kneeling shape. He rectified the position of his gun, right between her eyes, and for the first time of the day, she feared for her life.

He was about to say something when another detonation rang in the air. He looked around, confused. The chief was the quicker to understand they got shafted. His face suddenly turned red. "You!" He pointed his sword at the mayor. "How dare you?" he yelled, "Do you really think you're going to get away with all this? You fool..." he muttered as he awoke a baby snail phone and started to speak to all of his men. "Alright everyone, we've got what we wanted, our time here is over. Let's gather at the harbour, ready a ship, forget the others. We're coming down, but I'll make sure we can retreat safely."

He then gestured to catch the attention of all his crewmates around him and showed them the school. "Let's give their kids a visit of our ship! Karl, leave them, we need to get going!"

Terror filled Faith as the blond man gave her a last look before running toward the school and its now destroyed door. She heard high-pitched cries and she could just witness what was happening. They were taking the children as hostages. Hands and back soaked with sweat, taking short and quick breaths, only hearing her own heartbeats, she couldn't move. She was paralyzed, unable to move, to intervene.

They were around twenty, with their teacher, contained by the pirates, shaking and crying in fear. They were slowly headed to the harbour. And it all happened quickly. A young man loomed from a house yelling a name. A little girl, dressed in red, yelled back at him as he tried to reach her, but was hit by a bullet in his left shoulder and fell down.

Someone was still aiming at him. Another detonation rang. Another yell was heard. "Jeminy!"

And suddenly, Faith regained control of her body. Enough to get between the wounded teenager and his assailant. The fear was gone, sent away by this desire, this need to protect, to stop the death of this man, to prevent this little girl to see her brother die.

"Stop it!" she said, arms outstretched. The man laughed before turning around, gesturing his gun to make the children move. The girl seemed reluctant, unaware of the danger she was putting herself through. "Go away, sweetie! Go. I'll take care of him. I promise!" And they left, leaving the witnesses distraught. They couldn't have done anything to prevent that.

"That's not r-really nice... making promises y-you can't keep," the teenager said, wincing in pain, catching her attention. "Shut up." Red hair, scars. That was him. Jeminy.

Just from looking at him she knew it would be hard to save him. But she had made a promise and she wasn't one to go back on her words. One bullet had popped out of his shoulder with the impact, leaving that wound rather clean. The other one was more worrying. The bullet had crossed his chest and one of his lungs, judging his wheezing breath and the bubbles of air coming out of the bleeding cut. A bad sign.

She quickly took a blood test kit out of her bag and proceeded with the test. It would help her later to speed up the transfusion process, if she succeeded in stabilizing the teenager's condition.

"Jeminy? To put it simply, you've got blood and air in your lungs. That's why you're not breathing correctly. I need to fix that, but I'll have to anesthetise you. And I have to do it now."

"O-okay, but... If I... Tell Kayla, I..." he said, with difficulty.

"Alright. But you know what, you'll tell her yourself when she get back." Faith smiled at him, before preparing a syringe and injecting her last dose of anesthetic. He didn't even need to start to count to ten before falling asleep.

Some people had gathered around her when she was talking to him. She pointed two women out. "I'll need your help. You, you'll use that pocket mask to insufflate him more air. And you, I need you to run to the infirmary to find Elli and bring him back, along with an oxygen tank and some blood bags, O negative preferably. And for the rest of you, well, we need air, so if you're not injured, go to the mayor, he'll tell you what to do."

Everybody agreed and she started preparing him, showing the woman how to ventilate him, monitoring his heartbeat with her stethoscope. That kind of wound would need surgery, but this wasn't the right place and she had never done such things. The best she could do was stabilizing him while waiting for Elli to come and decide if that boy could be saved or not. And the best to do in order to stabilize him was to pull all this blood out of his lung.

She knew the procedure by heart, even though it wasn't a common one. Using scissors she cut his shirt out before applying an antiseptic solution on his chest. Noticing her dirty hands, she then put her two last pairs of sterile gloves on to restrict the risks in case one of them burst, before getting a chest tube kit ready. She identified his fifth intercostal space, took a deep breath and made an incision. Clearing a way to the damaged lung, she then inserted the chest tube. When it started to drain the blood, she stitched each part of the incision to steady it before applying a dressing. She now had to wait and check the blood loss to see if it would cease or not.

Jeminy had paled, but seemed to breathe a bit more easily. She took care of his other wound, bandaging it, and with the help of the woman assisting her, she raised his head and chest a bit to ease his breathing and help the blood being drained off.

Seeing he was still asleep, she took the time to clean everything and make a small inventory of what was left in her bag. Nothing much to say the least: two bandage rolls, a suture kit, a vial of pain killers and two of antibiotics, scissors, two syringes, along with a bottle of saline solution, of alcohol, and two IV kits. She hoped the disaster was reaching its end and with it the number of injured residents. Elli was probably healing people somewhere on his own, but still...

The woman came back from the infirmary with all the things she had asked for. Faith put the oxygen mask on Jeminy's face before transfusing him. "I couldn't find Elli. He is nowhere to be seen."

"It's alright. I'm stabilizing him, so he can wait for a bit. The blood test kit showed us he is A negative, I'm not sure we've got bags of it, but if you could go back and check. And after that, I will just need you to search for Elli."

"Okay, I'm leaving then." As the woman ran, she took advantage of his still sleeping state to thread a catheter in his hand, before putting him on a drip of both saline solution and antibiotics.

"There. Can you hold the IV above his head please?" she asked the woman standing beside them, inactive since she had given Jeminy oxygen. "Thanks. We just have to wait now." She tried to give her a reassuring smile while undoing the tourniquet on his arm. Given the amount of anesthetic she had injected him, he should wake up in thirty minutes or so. She monitored the chest tube output, relieved to see the flow had lessened, even just a bit.

"I'll go check on some people around here, if he wake up or if anything happen, just yell," she said before packing her stuff up and putting her stethoscope around her neck. Twenty minutes later, as she had run out of bandages and was protecting some wounds with clean pieces of her shirt she had torn apart, she heard the woman yelling.

"FAITH!" When she got back, the woman was massaging his chest, proceeding to a cardiopulmonary resuscitation. "He opened his eyes and then stopped breathing". The doctor knelt beside them and took over the woman. "Pick up the pocket mask and ventilate him now. Two times." She stopped as his lungs were filled with air before resuming her chest compressions, counting them. "Come on! Come on Jeminy!" After two other rounds, he finally regained consciousness, coughing and grimacing, his hand trying to grasp the chest tube.

"No. Don't. I'll give you something to ease the pain," said Faith, as she pushed his hand away and prepared a syringe of pain killers before injecting it. As she put his oxygen mask on again, he tried to speak, tears in his eyes. "M-make it s-stop. P-please... It h-hurts."

"I know. Just wait, you'll soon feel them kicking in." He had paled and was shivering. She checked on the chest tube, only to see the flow of blood had increased, pooling all over his side. It wasn't good.

"Please, go and try to find Elli too. We need him," she said to the woman, taking the IV and blood bag from her hands. She wanted to cover the teenager with something to keep him warm, but she couldn't see anything adequate around. "Don't worry Jeminy. He'll come and patch you up."

But he shook his head. "He w-won't... I'm n-not gonna m-make i-it." She held his cold hand. "J-just... D-don't try to b-bring me back a-ag—" And he stopped breathing.

And she let him go.

That was it, Jeminy died that way, and yet, there was something dragging her further and further into her memories.

* * *

Thanks for reading !

In normal circumstances, I would have stopped writing the OS over there, going back to the present and all, but that's not how it work, or how my mind work.  
Just let's say Jill wanted to tell us even more about herself, and I _needed_ to listen to her.

So, how was it ? What do you think will happen now/in the second part ?  
And what about the rating ? Wasn't it too harsh ?  
There's a pun (at least an intentional one) hidden in what you just read, care to find it ?

See you around,  
Lily.

Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting


	3. Not looking back (Part 2)

Author's note : Hello there !

First, I want to thank Flowersinchains, JarOfIdeas, Gage39, Tray D. Sheila and BubblesTheMonster for their follow and/or fav'. And I repeat my thanks to AndurilofTolkien for the review.

Then I apologise for the long break, but I had to pass my competitive exam and wait for the results before being able to go back to a normal life and resume writing. So, to make it up to you, here is the second and final part of "Not looking back". I had hard times writing it, but you'll have approximately 10k words to read so...

I've never wrote something that long, though, but don't get too used to it hehe. Anyway, don't be afraid to share your feelings and thoughts on my story, through a review or a PM. I'll gladly answer any of your questions, if you have any!

Like for the previous part, the story's songs are "Looking too closely" from Fink and Michael Kiwanuka's "Cold Little Heart".

 **Warning though.**  
The following text deals with tough events. There's **still some graphic depiction of violence** and "medical" procedures. Like the previous part, please do tell me if you think I should make it M rather than T.

I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it.

And, comme toujours, merci Corail Chérie !

* * *

 **Sparks - Not looking back (Part 2)**

That was it, Jeminy died that way, and yet, there was something dragging her further and further into her memories.

Several minutes passed before she understood holding the IV and the blood bag wasn't necessary anymore. Coming to her senses she removed them from him, along with the chest tube and the mask. She wrapped up his chest with the remains of his shirt and finally closed his lifeless eyes. She heaved a heavy sigh before finishing collecting herself and then stood up, slowly heading for the harbour, hearing some bustle.

Most of the corpses she encountered were already covered with white sheets, people all around, crying or cleaning, dumbfounded. As she passed by some of them, she heard the Whitebeard's pirates had finally arrived and that they had freed the kidnapped children, crossing path with the retreating bandits. She slowed down not really ready to face them yet. She was exhausted, relieved and mad at the same time.

As she was about to descend the small hill she had climbed to reach the marketplace, she heard quick footsteps and a small laughing voice telling someone to hurry. She hadn't realised what it was all about when a red-dressed flash went past her. She then faced a little group of pirates, following the red running shape from a distance, probably heading to the city hall and the mayor to know what really happened. Her eyes widened in shock and understanding and she turned around, starting to run.

"KAYLA! NO!"

But it was too late. She grabbed the little girl's arm when she was only a few feet away from her brother's body, already yelling in pain. She tried to keep her away, kneeling, turning her aside and noticed the pirates' arrival. Kayla was struggling in her embrace, raging mad. She finally let go of her and the girl suddenly slapped her with all her strength. "You liar! You promised!"

She could already feel the bruise forming on her cheek, but hadn't moved. Kayla was right. She had made a promise and she had failed to keep it. She deserved it. She deserved so much more...

"Look at what you've done!" The little girl continued, shaking, raising her hand anew. But she was stopped by another hand. Elli had come from the marketplace. Restricted, she gave up, a worn out, desperate look on her face. "L-look! I-I'm all alone now!" And she started sobbing uncontrollably. Elli pressed her against his chest, whispering sweet words. He looked at Faith, still kneeling, and asked her if she had a tranquilizer left. Kayla would need it.

"No. I have almost nothing left. Bring her to your office. She needs rest anyway. Does everything was alright on your side?" she wondered, seeing some blood on his white coat. The man let out a sigh. "As alright as it could be. You take care of them?" he said, moving his head toward the pirates. She nodded, standing up. "We'll talk about what happened later. Come to the sick bay when you're finished." He then held the still crying child in his arms and carried her away. Faith looked at them, thoughtful, before wiping her face and pulling some wild strands of hair away. She was covered in sweat, soot and blood, but that would do for now.

She faced the awaiting pirates, recognizing most of them as Whitebeard's Commander's. One being Marco The Phoenix, Edward Newgate's First Mate. "Elli is taking her to the infirmary," she answered to his silent question. "I guess you wanted to see the mayor, I'm taking you to him." They assented, silently following her.

When she entered the City Hall, he was there, talking with his assistant and some residents, looking exhausted. His eyes widened a bit when he saw her. "Faith! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she reassured him and gestured toward her bloodied clothes, "it's... Not mine." He nodded in understanding, before seeing the men behind her. "They're the Whitebeard's pirates, they want to talk to you. I'm leaving, but I wondered if you already had a number."

"Around a hundred," he said grimly. It took several seconds before she was able to process the news. "I see. I'll head back to the sickbay before going around the village to see if I'm needed anywhere. Elli will probably be too tired and busy with everyone around his office, so if you need something, don't hesitate, I've got my _den den_."

Not awaiting an answer, she left, finding herself in the marketplace again. She went to the sickbay. It was divided in three main rooms, one for the regular consultations, another as an infirmary with forty beds, and an operating room. The back of the building was Elli's house. He was currently sitting at his desk, in the infirmary, searching something in a book. Most of the beds were taken, bandaged and perfused residents resting. She walked along the main row of cots and went to the shelves containing all their medical equipment, behind Elli's desk. Setting her bag down on a chair, she started to fill it, softly talking to her mentor. She told him everything, in a neutral, professional tone contradicting her inner rage, guilt and weariness. She then listened to him, telling her what had happened, how Whitebeard's crew was helping them, how she wasn't responsible for those deaths. And as always, he was right. His low and all-knowing voice pacified her, eased her guilt, making more room for her anger. She had done her best, waiting for someone to intervene, to rescue them. She wasn't to blame, at least not that much. But someone else was. Someone powerful who swore to protect them, no matter what.

She finished packing and left to walk around the town, checking on people she had treated. The fire had been extinguished, only leaving a faint smell of smoke in the air. Residents greeted her on her way, seeing the red cross on her bag, recognizing her. She was stunned by the extent of the damage and the number of injured people. Some of the bounty hunters' pirates weren't apparently there only for the seastone. It made her sick. Unarmed and kind men and women suffering for nothing. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

On her way, seeing how the pirates were helping them, cleaning, treating, and some even starting to rebuild destroyed houses, she wondered what she would say to Whitebeard if she was to face him. This mutual assistance was heart-warming. In those harsh times, they had to stick together, to help each other in order to help themselves, but... She blamed them.

They had come decades ago and offered their protection in exchange for almost nothing. Only pleased to be helpful. And now that they had needed them, they failed to keep their word. It was intolerable, unbelievable from one of the Four Emperors.

Her steps brought her absent-mindedly to the harbour. Whitebeard's ship was there, Suim's winds filling its huge sails, pirates freely coming and going, busy. She was itching to go up there, to face the great Whitebeard on the deck of his own ship, to see what he would say.

She met her own tormented yet resigned eyes in a shop window she was standing by. She looked like a mess. Dirt on her face and arms, her ripped stained shirt showing a part of her stomach, loose strands of hair escaping from her ponytail. She looked like a mess, but that was what they had made of her. And she wouldn't change anything.

What was done was done. She wanted answers, she wanted solutions and she knew who to ask them from. She headed for the Moby Dick, determined. Her voice was loud and firm when she arrived at the foot of the boat, in front of the wooden plank allowing the pirates to come and go from it, and asked, "Where's Whitebeard?"

Surprised faces looked her all over, whispering. "I'm Faith Jillian Sade and I want to see your captain." She said again, not moving.

"Faith?" She turned around and faced her wet yet unharmed brother. "Tom! You're alright?" She was about to hug him when she saw her dirty hands and gave up on it, only smiling.

"Yeah, we hide in the underwater caves. We're all fine. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see Whitebeard. I have things to say."

"What? Faith, you shouldn't... Come with me, I'll take you home and we'll rest for a bit."

"No! I'm tired of shutting up. I need to see him and I need it now."

"And he'll receive you," a neutral voice intervened. "I'll show you the way." Marco added, patiently waiting. Faith nodded, turning back to Tom. "Go back home. Go check on Zoe, she must be worried. I'll meet you tonight." And she followed Whitebeard's First Mate.

He was on the deck, sitting on a massive chair fitting his massive size. Even without doing anything other than looking at her he was impressive, powerful. The sun was setting behind him, giving the sky various shades of orange, cruel reminder of the now extinguished fire and of all the battle's consequences. When Marco stepped aside, she was a few meters from him. She could see sadness and curiosity in his eyes. Not losing countenance under that strong gaze, she greeted him.

"Edward Newgate. I'm Faith Jillian Sade, one of Suim's doctors and the one who called you this afternoon. In normal circumstances, I would tell you how pleased I am to meet you, but today, I'd be lying saying so." The man assented.

"Welcome on board Miss Sade. And first, let me present you my deepest apolog—"

"I don't want to hear it," she cut him off. "I'm the one speaking now, and you'll wait until I'm finished. That's the least you can do." The man's stare shifted from surprise to understanding and he complied, not saying a word.

"Are you too confident in your own strength and reputation that it makes you blind about anything else?" She paused assessing the short breaths and the whispers among the curious pirates circling them. "How many islands are you currently protecting? Ten? Fifteen?" Another pause. "What is the plan if one or several of them were under attack? Have you ever thought of it? Considered it? Or are you that a naïve and idealistic man to believe that your name and a waving flag would be enough to bring peace wherever you stand? Because if you tell me that you thought so, well, I'll have to make you see what the real world looks like."

She paused again, clenching her fists in a mix of fear and rage, knowing what she was just about to say. "Hundred innocent people are dead today. People I knew, people I cared about, people I grew up with. Good, care-free, innocent people. We both have hundreds of ruined lives on our head now."

She knew that many people were out on deck, witnessing what was happening, yet she couldn't see anyone but him, his eyes locked with hers, mindful. She took her breath and went on, already feeling the emotional spiral she was thrown in starting to fade.

"Hundred innocent people are dead today. And there's no way I let that happen again. I don't care how you'll do it, but you'll have to fix it. Aren't you the strongest man in the world? Isn't your crew numerous and strong enough? Didn't you take upon your shoulders the burden of protecting us? Does it seems right to take people under your so-called protection and not being able to protect them in the end? Why, then?" Her voice started to crack. "Why weren't you there?"

A few seconds passed in utter silence. Now that her speech was done, she felt drained. Guilt and anger remained but sadness and weariness were stronger. Everyone was silent, assessing what had been said and what they might say to her. Yet, she was still looking at their captain, waiting, shaking, feeling fatigue getting heavier and heavier on her shoulders.

The strongest man in the world sighed, suddenly looking way much older. He stood up, took a step forward and bowed down before her. All around them, men were shouting "Pops!" and " _Oyaji!_ " out of surprise and distress.

"I apologise for all the pain our carelessness puts you and all Suim's residents through. We failed you. _I_ failed you. And I don't have enough words to tell you how sorry I am."

Shock and relief washed over her. She turned her head on the side to hide the tears welling up in her eyes and said with a falsely angry and annoyed voice, "You idiot! Get up. Kneeling won't change anything now."

Whitebeard chuckled before standing up again, giving her a gentle smile. "I mean it, and there are changes to be made, rest assured of it. And we'll do it quickly."

She nodded, worn out. "Alright then, but I expect you to tell us about those changes. Now that everything had been said, I'll go back to the infirmary. You're welcomed on the island, all of you." And she left, at a slower pace than before but feeling lighter. She had been heard. Maybe things would change.

When she went back to Elli's office he was at his desk again, thanking a snail phone before hanging up and resuming the filling of some medical records. And there were nurses all around, treating and checking on patients, Whitebeard's mark on their uniforms. She felt relieved that there were someone standing in for her. She needed to breathe, to take off her medical bag and all the duties that came along with it. Elli smiled to her as she reached him.

"There's a plate on the bar," he said, showing the door to his room behind him, with a slight move of the hand. "Tom brought you spare clothes. You can use the shower. And don't forget to eat." She smiled and entered Elli's house. That huge room served as kitchen, living and dining room. She noticed the food on the counter and ignored it, only putting her bag against the wooden piece of furniture. She headed to the bathroom, next to Elli's bedroom, lighting it before readying the shower. She got undressed and slipped under the boiling hot water spray. And for the ten following minutes, she hadn't done anything other than staying right under it, eyes closed, water flowing over her head making her deaf and blind, oblivious to the outside world. When she had enough and cracked her eyes open, she saw how red the water pooling at her feet was.

Picking the soap with the strongest scent, she started scrubbing her body before taking care of her hair. A smell of vanilla soon filled the room along with steam. She rinsed herself before starting all over again, using a brush this time. The hard bristles set her skin ablaze, reddening it. What took much longer was getting rid of the blood under her fingernails. She had feared it would never go away, staining her forever. But after several minutes of stubbornness it finally disappeared, leaving her fingers sore.

Not far away, sounds of chairs being pulled and muffled voices could be heard.

She rinsed herself one last time, but when her hands wiped her face she hissed, having forgotten her bruised cheek. It wasn't a harsh or strong pain, yet it was enough to make her want to cry. And she couldn't help the tears welling up in her eyes again. Relieved to be alone, she surrendered to the feels she had desperately locked up inside her, and started to sob, bending to bear that storm tearing her apart from within. She couldn't help whimpering. That was way too much.

She strongly bit her lip, hearing the pathetic sounds she made. She didn't want Elli to know, to come and see her like that. So weak, so vulnerable, so woman. She already knew what he would say, and it wouldn't change anything for her. She just had to let it go for now, to hold on until she could breathe again. Moments passed and she sobbed, shaking, tasting the blood from her split lip, the hot water leaving an invisible yet comforting path on her back.

And then it stopped. She felt even more drained and leaned against one of the white tiled wall, unable to stand any longer. She stared into space, waiting for her breath to calm down and her strength to come back. That was it.

When she felt strong enough, she stood and turned the shower off, wrapping herself in a towel. She felt better. Yet, she knew she was now on the brink of the cliff she had climbed back up with so much difficulty, and that the slightest thing could make her fall down again. But she would be fine, eventually. As she had thought earlier, they would all need time to heal. Even if she hadn't believed it could affect her too.

Drying herself, she finally met her own gaze in the mirror. Slightly bloodshot eyes with shadows under them, standing out in her paler than usual face. Well, not so pale, considering the interesting shade of purple adorning her right cheek. Her lips were redder from the bite, still bleeding a little. The rest of her body was intact, only a few grazes. It could have been worse, she thought, remembering the gun that had been pointed at her, ready to fire. She still could picture the man wicked grin perfectly. It was one of the doctor's duties to remain healthy and unharmed during a battle in order to be efficient and save the more people he could, everyone knew that.

But there was also what the mirror couldn't show. The remaining pieces of her broken heart, broken each time she remembered Kayla's scream and Jeminy's pleading eyes. One more failure she would have to live with.

Heaving a sigh she got dressed, wiped her hair and applied some healing balm on her lips before cleaning everything and exiting the bathroom. Some chairs were missing but the plate was still here, waiting for her. She didn't feel like eating. She only wanted some company. Being by Elli's side always made her feel better.

She went to the infirmary but he wasn't there. A nurse gestured to the door of the consultation room from where she could hear muffled voices. Thanking her she entered, only to find Elli casually chatting with three pirates.

"Oh sorry." She was about to close the door when the old doctor interrupted her. "It's alright Faith, come in."

She stood in the spacious room, assessing Marco The Phoenix and a kimono-clad man both sitting down on the infirmary bed, side by side, their backs against the wall. Another man with an unusual haircut was seated on a chair, smiling at his crewmates. She noticed the basket full of muffins on the desk Elli was leaning on, along with two blood donation kits. "Do you need anything?"

"No. I just didn't feel like being alone." She said with a small frown, not really knowing how to behave with the men, considering her previous speech and the harsh accusations she had made against their captain.

"Stay then. And why don't you give me a hand? Those gentlemen volunteered for a blood donation." He gestured toward the pirates who smiled in return. She couldn't hide her surprise. "Really? Why?"

"They've called me a bit earlier, wanting to know if I needed help or something. I told them we were running low on blood and that I won't turn my nose up at some additional hands, hence the nurses. Whitebeard's doc' is already patrolling around the town and the rest of his nurses are organising a blood donation in the ship's sickbay. Commanders Marco and Izo came with the nurses and Commander Thatch here showed up a bit later with some food. So, now that you know everything, what about helping me?" Elli concluded, some impatience showing through is neutral expression.

She sighed, not wanting to say no but not wanting to work neither, considering her level of tiredness. "Can't you have one of the nurses helping you? That wouldn't be wise for me to do it now. Unless you want me to miss the vein several times." Her mentor was about to say something but Marco interrupted him, arrogance in his eyes. "I'm kind of a fast healer, I can easily endure a few mistakes."

It cut her to the quick. How dare he imply that she couldn't get it right on the first try? He would see. She could hear Elli chuckled as he came nearer to Izo, the kit in his hands.

"Fine. Pull your left sleeve up then," she said icily, before putting gloves on, readying the blood donation kit and coming closer to him. "Aren't you a devil fruit user?" He nodded. "I'll put this seastone bracelet around your wrist to make things easier," she said, removing one of the several she was wearing. It was made out of elastic thread and small dark beads. The man barely contained an exhausted sigh as the seastone brushed against his skin and she chuckled. "Quite powerful, huh? Let's get over with it quickly then." She placed a tourniquet above his elbow. "Now clench your fist two or three times please. There, perfect." She tapped the popping vein a few more times before inserting the needle. She put a piece of adhesive tape to prevent it from moving and undid the tourniquet, controlling the flow filling the blood bag. Elli was finished too.

"See, all you needed was a little incentive, yoi," Marco said with a smirk, and everyone laughed at the baffled look on her face. She went by Elli's side, jumping on the desk while he simply was leaning against it. Feeling the man's warmth just inches away gave her a sense of security. She sighed in her turn, not really knowing what to do now. She felt drained and restless at the same time. The pirates started talking amongst themselves and her mentor turned his face to look at her. "Have you done something for your cheek?" She shook her head, hearing a displeased grunt. "Faith..." She shrugged, not really wanting to have this discussion yet.

"The blood bags must be almost full now, I'll check. Can you bring them some water?" she asked over her shoulder while going back to the men. She removed the needles and placed a cotton with disinfectant where they previously were. Marco refused it, only asking her to remove the bracelet. When she did, a little spot of blue light replaced the commander's wound before fading and leaving his skin untouched. Faith all but gaped at that. "So you can really heal yourself thanks to your devil fruit?"

"Yeah. Poor Marco needed at least one benefit from being able to morph into a flaming chicken!" Thatch grinned. She smiled. "Right, Marco The Phoenix." She wanted to ask him more about his powers but Elli came back with the water. "You should drink, eat and rest for a bit now," She said while going back to his desk, leaving him some room.

And there she was again, weariness gnawing at her, waiting for something to end, not knowing what this something could be. The men resumed their chatter but she hadn't the strength to even pay attention. A warm hand on her knee brought her back. And she fell in even warmer eyes as Elli put an ice pack on her cheek. She hissed from both the cold and the touch. "You don't have to suffer."

"Yeah, that's what you say..." she answered, frowning. How could he be so calm, so composed, when everything around was just so messed up?

"Faith..." he said soothingly, almost pleadingly. And she couldn't refrain herself. It was too much. She didn't deserved to be soothed. To be granted some peace. She wanted Hell to break loose again to inflict her the punishment she really deserved.

"No! Don't even try to 'Faith' me!" she yelled, startling the pirates and her mentor. "I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear the whole 'It's not your fault' bullsh— "

"What do you want me to say then?" he cut her off harshly, "What, huh?"

"I don't know! Anything! Why are you so kind? Why aren't you shouting at me? Why aren't you telling me off?"

He seemed confused. Whitebeard's men were still silent, witnessing the argument. "Why should I be?"

"BECAUSE I LIED!" she shouted, bolting up, facing him, "I made a promise I knew deep down I couldn't keep! I lied to the sister of a dying patient... I lied to him... And he knew it." Her voice trembled. The ice pack was still in Elli's hanging hand, but the man wasn't smiling or mad anymore. He looked understanding, as if he knew exactly what she was feeling, what she was thinking. And now, she thought he probably did.

"You want me to punish you, but in all truth, I can't blame you." He sighed before looking seriously at her. "There are times where lying helps. Whether it is to buy some time, to quell crises, to give hope or to save yourself... Lies are sometimes the only thing that will keep you going in rather desperate situations, that will allow you to stand up and go saving someone else." He placed the pack on her cheek again. "See it as a survival mechanism. Even if it come smash you in the face when it's all over."

"But..." She hesitated. Lying was wrong. And yet... She sighed, feeling weak, the cold numbing her face. She needed to know. "H-how do you handle it?"

"Drinking and talking." He chuckled, taking her back to his desk where she sat and giving her the ice pack. He went to a small closet and grabbed a bottle and two glasses before pouring an amber liquid in each one.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked, genuinely amazed.

"Oh, you'd be surprised." He smiled, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "There, drink it."

"You know I don't drink." Thatch began to raise his hand, only to be interrupted.

"That's not for you, boys, sorry." The doctor smiled at the slightly complaining pirates before regaining his composure. "I won't force you, but I think you should."

She took the glass she was offered and looked at it. "Is it... from your personal reserve?"

"Of course."

"Zon... Zon wanted to taste it. Can't imagine the fit he would throw if he knew I'm about to drink your whiskey without even savouring it." She couldn't suppress a smile.

"Oh the bastard has had his fair share of my whiskey, believe me," Elli laughed in his turn, before being interrupted by a knock on the door. He opened and she heard a sweet voice asking for her. She put her drink and the ice pack away, stood and walked to the entrance of the room as Elli stepped aside, only to be met by a brown-haired woman. She recognized her immediately and forgot how to breathe.

The words came out naturally, asking for a repentance she knew she didn't deserve. "Melya. I'm so—"

"Thank you!" the woman cut her off, taking her into a warm hug, "Thank you Jill! I heard what you've done for Zon..." Her voice trembled a little. "Thank you!"

And that was the final motion she needed to fall down the cliff she precariously stood by all over again. She clenched her fists by her sides and let her tears fall, shaking, barely repressing her sobs. One of Melya's hands went to her head as her thumb gently stroke her hair.

"You did great Jill. No matter what you think. You did great," she whispered in her ear as the girl hide her face in the crook of her neck. It meant so much. It felt so good having warm arms to cry into. Melya's strong hold was like an unbelievably bright and safe anchor.

The woman continued to caress her hair for a while, letting her expressing her sorrow, before she sighed and moved her arms to take Jill's face into her hands, looking right into her soaked eyes. She wiped her tears with her thumbs as she felt Faith slowly regaining her composure. Still staring in her green orbs, she talked again.

"I am needed elsewhere but I wanted to see you first," she faintly smiled, "and I want you to listen carefully." She took a breath.

"Harsh times are just around the corner. It will be hard. Hard for you, hard for us. We all know that. But we're alive." Her eyes shone sadly. "It will be hard, but you will survive it. You don't see it yet, but you already did. You're a good woman Jillian Sade, don't you dare forget that, ever," she scowled lightly before softening her features.

"You're such a wonderful human being. Brave, caring, passionate, broken." The faint smile was there again. "They will all tell you that what you need now is time but they're wrong. What you need now is to do what you deem right." She stared intensely into her eyes, shaking her a bit. "You are young. You are gifted. You still have so many things to discover. You're not bound to us! You don't have to be. Do what you want to."

She paused and placed her hands on Faith's shoulders, a fond and sincere expression on her face. "We all love you so much, Jill. All you have to do now is taking care of yourself. You've earned it, fair and square."

"I must go now. So take care of yourself, a-and thank you again... For Zon." Melya repressed her tears before kissing Faith's forehead. She smiled and took her leave, followed by Elli who wanted to talk to her some more.

She was left facing the closed door, feeling the pirates' presence in her back. She felt like a mess and she was probably looking like one. Carefully unclenching her fists, she heaved a deep breath, wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt and went back to her mentor's desk. Sitting, she took her untouched glass and drank a bit from it. She winced from the burn she felt down her throat and couldn't suppress a cough. She was already feeling the characteristic warmth and guilt made her stomach churn. She was still on duty, she shouldn't be drinking.

Uncertain, she raised her eyes to look at the pirates who were staring at her, mild concern on their features. They averted their gazes when they realised she saw them and started whispering, as if nothing had happened. She nursed her drink with both her hands.

"It's over, right?"

They looked at her, baffled. But Izo was the quickest one to understand what she was referring to. "Yes it is, darling." He smiled softly. She nodded slowly, acknowledging his first answer.

"They're all gone and dead?" she continued. She needed to hear it.

"They are indeed." He smiled again.

"Okay. Good." She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater one last time, before gulping the rest of her drink. She choked on it, making a face. She really hated whiskey. Putting her glass aside, she took the basket of muffins in her lap and picked one, slowly munching on it. She hummed in delight.

"They taste like heaven, right?" Izo asked, chuckling as she nodded, "Thatch made them. He's our chef."

"They're delicious," she said to the smiling man with a pompadour.

She stood as he was thanking her, and brought the basket near them. She looked at the crossdresser. "You should be eating something, to help you with the blood loss," she gave him a muffin. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit dizzy but fine." She nodded and looked at Marco, handing him a biscuit. "You should eat too. Even just out of pure greed."

And she finally flashed a grin at Thatch, giving him a muffin. "There. You made them, it would be right for you to taste them."

"And another one for me. Because... It would be a shame to let them rot in that basket." She smiled as the men scoffed. She felt better. Lighter. She thanked that glass of whiskey.

They ate in silence for a bit, before Thatch let out a content sigh. "That was quite a hell of a day, hm?"

They laughed and Jill smiled. "Yeah, you can say that."

The pirates looked at each other, the silence suddenly feeling uncomfortable. They didn't know what to talk about but she intervened.

"Thank you... For giving your blood, bringing the food and staying. But if you're needed elsewhere... You don't have to stay here. I'm fine."

"Oh we're not babysitting you, dear," Izo replied.

"Yeah, we only had to bring the nurses. Pops said we can stay here until the meeting. They'll use the _den den_ if they need us," Marco continued, casually.

"And we also wanted to have a closer look to the woman who stood up to _Oyaji_!" Thatch grinned.

"Thatch!" Izo scolded as Marco let out an exasperated sigh.

"What? Isn't it true?"

"It's alright." She smiled. "So there's a meeting tonight?" They nodded. "Can I come? I won't interfere, I promise. I just want to attend it."

The pirates looked at each other before Marco gave her a nod. "Pops told me to invite you, but only if you were asking, yoi."

"I see... Well, just tell me when we have to leave. I have some things to discuss with Elli." And without saying anything else, she went to the infirmary where she found her mentor bandaging a boy's arm.

"There you go. Rest for now." He smiled before looking at her.

"Whitebeard invited me to his meeting with his commanders. I'll go with the three here but before, I was wondering if you have some of this cold salve left?"

"No. But come, I'll make some."

They went back to the consultation room and she carefully looked at Elli. Memorizing every move his wrinkled and all-knowing hands were making. She memorized the light frown on his face, his slightly tensed jaw and the way his eyes shined with contentment when he was done making the balm. She looked at a man raised to be a doctor and who had dedicated his life to it.

"There. Let's apply some on your cheek." And one of his wrinkled hands gently spread a bit of cold cream before slowly massaging it. It felt warm, being taken care of so kindly.

"Elli?"

"Hm?"

"Where's Kayla?" She hesitated. "I haven't seen her in the infirmary."

"She left for Miossu. She had some relatives there. The mayor contacted them and they came for her. She's in safe hands."

She sighed. "Good."

"She said she was sorry though." He smiled at Faith's wide eyes. "You heard right. She wanted to know what really happened. I told her and she came to the conclusion it wasn't really your fault. And she said she was sorry for hitting you."

"And you told her I forgive her?"

"Of course I did!" He chuckled, closing the jar of balm.

"Good." She sighed again, appeased. "I hope she'll be alright."

"With some time, I guess. Kids are stronger than they look."

"I'm sorry to interrupt but it's time for us to go, yoi."

"Sure!" Faith jumped off the desk. "Just let me grab my jacket and we're leaving."

And they left, emptying the basket of muffins Thatch had brought on their way to the harbour.

The Moby Dick was standing, fierce and unwavering in the surrounding darkness. Light and laughter came from the deck, and became louder and louder as they walked up the gangplank. Pirates were partying, enjoying their night after an afternoon of harsh labour.

The deck seemed even larger than when she first came. She noticed the Captain's empty seat. Some men greeted their commanders and she followed them as they disappeared through an open door. As impressive as the Moby Dick was in its outside, its inside was a maze of large corridors and rooms. They finally reached a vast meeting room with an oval wooden table in its centre and wooden chairs all around. All the portholes were open, letting the fresh and salty air coming in, making the candles' flames flicker. They were the last to come and she felt more than she saw eleven pairs of eyes looking at her.

She nodded slightly to Whitebeard, murmuring "Good evening" and took one of the last available seats, between Thatch and Izo. The air felt tense somehow, and some of the commanders were sending her wary looks. She sighed and stood up, opening her mouths, slightly hesitating, and Whitebeard motioned for her to speak. "I won't apologize for what I said earlier because I meant every word. Yet, I want to thank you for rescuing the kidnapped children, helping rebuild our destroyed buildings and making your doctor and nurses available for us. We're grateful. _I am_. And as I already told your fellow crewmates, I'm only attending this meeting, I won't interfere, unless given permission. So please don't mind me and do as usual."

Newgate smiled knowingly. "Let's begin then! Sons, Miss Sade, we're all reunited this evening to discuss an important matter. We failed at protecting one of our islands today and we can't afford to let the tragedy repeat itself. We need to improve both our strategies and defences. I already have some things in mind, but I want to hear all of you first."

Everyone looked at each other and some of the commanders spoke. Leaving some men in each islands, augmenting the patrols of their second ship, training the citizens, providing them with weapons, leaving some of their territories to their allies... Whitebeard nodded to every proposition, keeping a blank expression. Jill looked at them talking, making herself more comfortable in the wooden seat, bending one knee to rest her arm on, refraining herself from intervening.

Three commanders were now arguing about giving weapons to civilians and she sighed. Thatch stood up, muttering "This is not going anywhere..." before he left. He went back a few minutes later carrying a huge tray loaded with pastries, drinks and a steaming teapot. "There, let's not think and talk with an empty stomach!" He smiled before putting the tray at the centre of the table. Faith retrieved a hot cup of tea and nursed it in both her hands, enjoying the warmth.

They were about to resume the meeting, but a man, they had called Curiel, hadn't finished stating his views. "Still, we should consider the possibility of arming the ci—"

"Oh, can't you have a bit of common sense for God's sake!? If people and islands are accepting your help, it's because you're promising them they won't have to fight anymore!" Realising she just intervened without permission, she gaped at the pirates. "Sorry..."

"Gurarara! It's alright Miss Sade." Whitebeard laughed before looking at his son. "Yet, she is right. We swear to protect those people, we can't force them to change or to start using weapons to defend themselves. That is the task we took charge of. And that's why we are here tonight. I've heard you sons and although some of your ideas deserved to be carefully studied, this one is not an option. But now, if you all agree, I would like to know what our guest think about all this."

Most of them nodded and Thatch grinned at her surprised expression. "Me?"

Edward Newgate smiled.

"Hm, well... I need to know some things before I start giving my idea." He gestured for her to continue. "I assume you're a big crew, but how many people do you need to run this ship correctly?"

"I would say a hundred, yoi," the First Mate stepped in.

"Okay, and for a smaller boat?"

"We've got a Mini Moby with three commanders and approximately sixty crewmembers."

"Hm, I see. And I also presume your crew is quite wealthy. Money won't be a problem, right?

"We have more than we need, yes. But I'm not sure to get where you're going, yoi."

"You're actually a crew of more than three hundred people with only two boats and several territories to protect. You just have to do the math. Even with your allies, it's not enough. What I'm suggesting is that you build two more boats. With that, you'll have nine of your commanders permanently sailing between your various territories."

"But what about the farthest ones?" Curiel asked.

"Haven't you told about asking help from your allies? Aren't some of them near those distant islands? It might be worth contacting them."

"Gurarara! Thank you Miss Sade. What do you think of that, my boys?"

"The Moby is far from being full but that could be the right solution, yoi."

"Yes, and _Oyaji_ , you know that some of our allies are already willing to help us protect your territories," Izo said.

They discussed a bit more as Faith made herself even more comfortable in her seat, leaning her head against the high backrest. This place felt strangely safe. It was a huge solid ship, full of pirates willing to help them. They were strong and seemed to care for each other. That was heart-warming and comforting. It felt like she could become stronger by their sides. She closed her eyes and their voices slowly faded, becoming a dull murmuring.

"-lian! Jillian!" A hand shaking her shoulder made her bolt awake. Thatch smiled kindly.

"Oh, sorry!" She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. Everyone was looking at her and she noticed a man in a white coat had joined them, probably their doctor.

"It's alright Miss Sade. We were only discussing your idea and we all agreed on it. We will build two more boats and contact our allies."

"Hm, good..."

"Is there anything you want to add?"

"Well... Yes." She took a deep breath and look Whitebeard in the eye. "I want to come with you."

Various surprised sounds greeted her announcement and Izo was the first to talk.

"But why? Aren't you a doctor here?"

"I am. But I want to witness those changes with my own two eyes. With what had happened... I can only trust you to some extent. I need to see that you're not only making new promises but are intending to fulfill them."

"I see..." Whitebeard was scrutinizing her, thoughtful.

"I know I'm asking for something important... But I really need to see it becoming true, and... And there's still so much I don't know about this world and the medicine..."

"Aren't you more like running away?" Izo asked, calm but frank.

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, bringing shocked reactions, "But that's not really surprising, is it? I wasn't prepared for what had happened today. Yet I did my best and... Even if it was tough, now with some hindsight, I can say that... I enjoyed it." She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "It felt so right, just as if suddenly my life had more sense. I can't be a normal doctor anymore. Curing flu, headaches... It won't be enough. And I'm not like my mentor, I don't have his sense of self-sacrifice..."

She looked back to Whitebeard. "This is my home, but I can't stay." Her eyes then went to the pirates' doctor. She had the feeling that it was now or never. "I'll behave. And I'll help! I'm not asking for any position, any special treatment. I just want to learn more! And your presence here... This is an opportunity I've never dreamed of."

"What do you think of it, Bern?" Newgate asked his doctor. He sighed, massaging his face.

"Well, the crew's expending, I wouldn't mind another pair of hands with a bit more of medical knowledge than the nurses. And I can totally understand her reasons. She's needed here but she's free. That's your decision, Captain."

"And you sons? Are you against Miss Sade joining us?"

Nobody said anything, and Marco finally chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Pops... We all know you took a shine to her when she walked on deck for the first time."

"That's right!" He smiled fondly, giving Faith a warm look. "Well then, welcome in our crew and family, Miss Sade."

She wasn't really sure she heard right, so she waited a few seconds only to see the face of each and every commander sporting a small smile. She had really made it, then? She couldn't believe it. Some of the pirates started to laugh at her frozen expression.

"Gosh, give her something to eat or drink!" someone exclaimed.

"Yeah, look at her, it's like she's about to faint!"

"Doctors don't faint!" she and Bern said at the same time before smiling in acknowledgment to each other.

Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat. "Well, thank you, and please call me Jillian from now on. Miss Sade's way too formal for my liking." She smiled again, feeling satisfied. "We're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, but we can stay a few more days if you'd like."

"That's not necessary. Don't change your plans for me."

"Alright, you'll visit the Moby and we'll talk about your position in the crew tomorrow, yoi."

"Yeah. I'll take my leave to rest a bit and pack my things then." She stood up, grabbing her jacket. The fresh and salty air was still coming from the portholes.

Marco stood up in his turn. "I'll see you out, yoi."

She nodded and bid the commanders and her Captain goodnight and followed Marco. She felt relieved and yet anxious. She had to tell everyone she was leaving. " _What have I done?"_ she suddenly thought, panicking, but Melya's words and smile came to her mind and by the time she reached the deck, she was certain she had made the right choice. If Marco had seen her slower than usual pace, he didn't mention it.

"I'll take you home, yoi," he said with a half bored half annoyed expression, that she would soon start to recognise as his trademark face. A strange idea crossed her mind and she couldn't help but voicing it. "Are you really okay with me joining your crew?"

"I don't have to be. That's my Captain's order." Short and sharp.

"So you're not okay with me joining..." She felt disappointed.

"You don't know what you just signed for. You don't even have the slightest idea of what a pirate life is. Of what life at sea is. Storms, enemies and marine attacking, months without landing foot on solid ground..."

"Your nurses survived it so far, right? I'll be fine then. Don't worry."

"I'm not worrying." He sounded annoyed.

"Of course not." She chuckled and they silently walked down the gangplank and she heard her name. On the docks, sitting on a crate was her brother Tom. He couldn't sleep and had come to bring her home, waiting for the meeting to end.

"Thanks, Marco. See you tomorrow!" The man nodded and turned back.

She joined Tom and leaned against him as they made their way home. She needed to tell him. She let several minutes pass and braced herself.

"Tom..."

"Hm?"

"I'll leave with them tomorrow."

"You—"

"I can't stay here anymore," she finished, cutting him. "I'm sorry..."

"That's what you want, right?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Don't apologize then." He stopped walking and took her into a hug. "I just want you to be happy. Even if it means you're going away from me. You'll always be my annoying little sis', understood?"

She nodded. "Hm!" They resumed their walk and she smiled. "I'll miss you too, brother."

* * *

She had slept a few hours and had been awoken by the sunrise piercing through her open curtains. She had prepared breakfast for her and Tom and wrote a letter to their father before starting packing her most important things. Clothes, seastone jewels, books... When Tom had emerged from his bedroom, they had eaten together.

And she was now on her way to the harbour. She had gone to Elli's office earlier, to tell him she was leaving. He had smiled and patted her head, only saying that it was the right thing to do, sweeping her guilt and regrets away. They would manage. They will miss her but she wasn't irreplaceable as a doctor. Besides, some nurses wanted to stay on Suim. It quelled her anxiety.

He had given her his medical recipes and various balms, including the cold cream. Before she left, she memorised everything one last time, breathing that peculiar scent of medicinal herbs.

Only a few people were there to see her go. She spotted Kemi in a wheelchair, Melya by her sides. Tom was there too, talking with Thatch and Izo. She felt strangely happy. Waving to the commanders and her brother, she walked up the gangplank only to be greeted by Marco and Whitebeard.

"Captain!" she said with a polite nod.

"Jillian. You're ready to leave?"

"I am," she said, smiling.

"Let's go, then. Izo, Thatch, we're leaving without you, yoi!" She heard a yelp and her two crewmates ran on board. She came closer to the railing and waved everyone goodbye as the Moby Dick managed his way out of the harbour.

Sometimes fleeing away was the better option. The only one conceivable in order to survive, to be able to breathe again. It's wasn't a matter of forgetfulness—she would never forget what had happened—it was a matter of self-preservation. Taking some distance, leaving the chaos behind. She needed to go away if she wanted to come back here ever again.

She blinked, smiling. And there she was again, on the Moby's railing, nine years later, Whitebeard's purple mark tattooed on both her heels.

Two days after she left Suim had buried its fallen citizens and she had sang their hymn, on the deck, facing the sea, biding them farewell. The days aboard went smoothly and the bruise on her cheek slowly faded, as did her pain.

She had made peace, if not with herself, at least with those tragic events. She knew it wasn't her fault but she couldn't help the tiny spark of guilt residing in her chest. She never would.

Ace's steady breathing grounding her, she faced Jeminy as he slowly began to disappear, a warning look on his face and a finger pointed toward Ace. She frowned. It wasn't over yet. Resuming her massage, she realised how deeply asleep Ace was. After some minutes, feeling the urge to hear her brother's voice, she stopped her motions and slowly moved herself from the railing, careful not to wake Ace. Heading for the communication room, she greeted some crewmates. She knocked and came in when she heard Izo's deep voice. The room, with large windows facing the sea was an annexe of the navigation room. Several snailphones of various colour and shape were displayed on the tables.

"Jill! You're done petting Ace?" Izo smiled.

He was the commander in charge of the communications—because of his love for gossip, his crewmates said—with several of his division members. They were quite skilled and through the years he handed down the main tasks of spying and establishing communications to concentrate on the gathering of information. Many of the division members he trained were now on one of the three Mini Moby, accomplishing their mission.

Sitting at a large desk with a _den den mushi_ on it, he readjusted his kimono. Marco was by his side, gazing at a map unfolded in front of him.

"Yeah, I remembered a few things and..." She frowned. "Can I call Tom?"

"Sure thing, dear. You don't even have to ask! There's a _den_ _den_ there, the green one with the white by his side. Go ahead!" He gestured to the back of the room, where a lonely table was, giving her some privacy.

She sat and dialed the number she had learned years ago. After three tones, a voice greeted her and she smiled.

"Tom? It's Jill. How are you?"

* * *

When he woke up, Ace felt disoriented. Not opening his eyes yet, he remembered what happened. Soft whispers and two hands playing with his hair, bringing him a warmth and a comfort he didn't know he was craving for. It had felt so great this care, this closeness. He knew it was Jillian but for a brief moment he pictured a tall woman with long strawberry blond hair. And it had made his heart race faster, joy and sadness both fluttering in his being.

A tall woman with blond hair that was the only thing he recalled from his mother, from a picture Garp had showed him years ago.

More than ever he was seeing Jillian as a mother figure. She was kind, compassionate. And way too caring toward him to only be seen as another crewmember or a sister. And it felt strange, having a mother figure while growing up without one. There had been Makino for sure, but at that time she was too young and pretty. Ace almost blushed remembering her.

He sighed and tried to forget about all that. He just wanted to bask in that remaining comfort a bit longer. It was so strange feeling that well. He had let his guard down and nothing awful happened. Should this day be renamed Miracle? He smiled, eyes closed. Nah... Now that he thought about it, he had already experienced several miracles since he joined Whitebeard and his crew.

His stomach grumbled, reliable clock ringing dinner time. Opening his eyes, he stood up and stretched before turning is back to the pirates and looking at the calm sea set ablaze by the setting sun. He noticed Jill's book left on the railing and everything went quick.

Someone shouted from the crow's nest. A detonation was heard. A cannonball landed in the sea in front of him. The ship moved aside abruptly. Losing its balance, Jillian's book fell overboard and Ace jumped to catch it.

* * *

She sighed, discontent. The weight on her stomach was still there. She was glad she talked to Tom and had news from everyone in Suim, still... She stood up and went back to Izo and Marco. She needed to take her mind off of it. Jeminy was probably only playing. Some of her ghosts liked to do that, from time to time, to keep her on her toes.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

"Planning the next halts, yoi."

"Is Tom alright?" Izo wondered, looking up.

"Yeah, he is. Everything's alright _over there_." She scanned the room, looking to the busy crewmembers listening to recordings, searching for something that could help her. A tug on her shirt forced her to focus on what Izo was saying. "Jillian?"

"Sorry..."

"You okay, yoi?"

"No. Something's wrong. I can feel it." She frowned, followed by a concerned Marco. He was about to ask her some details when they all were interrupted by a shouting crewmember. "Commander Marco! Commander Izo! A marine vessel is approaching! Their canons seem ready to fire!"

Smoothly taking control of the situation, Marco gave some orders. "Slightly change course and contact Haruta. Order him to be ready to retaliate. Warn Thatch, Vista and Namur too. I'll go tell Pops. Izo, you keep me up to date."

"Sure!"

Jill has always been amazed by how swift Marco was to react and deal with serious situations. He was an incredible First Mate. Yet now the only thing she could think of was the possible attack. Her uneasiness grew and she dashed out of the room, running to the main deck, oblivious to Izo's shout and Marco following her a few feet behind.

On her way, Jeminy appeared, looking deadly serious. "Oh please... Quit playing!" she shouted, upset and the boy vanished, granting her access to the door. Opening it, she heard a detonation and felt the ship moving before seeing Ace's figure leaning over the railing, losing balance. She only had time to jump and catch him by his orange belt, yanking him on board. He landed with a huff.

Her legs slightly wobbling, she used the railing as a support and took a breath. "I knew it! You idiot! Don't do something like that to me EVER AGAIN!" He gave her a sheepish smile before holding the medical book out to her. "Well... In fact you could say thank you."

She looked at it, mind blank. Ace laughed at her flabbergasted face, soon joined by some crewmates. She took the book Ace was offering her. "Thanks for saving it, but, God, next time, let it sink!"

"She's right Ace, that could have been dangerous, yoi," Marco said as he was walking back from Whitebeard's massive chair. The marine ship was fleeing.

"Oh come on guys... I know I've already had my fair share of jumps in the sea but this time, at least, I was doing it willingly!" Everyone laughed and Jillian sighed, clearly remembering those moments.

"Alright y'all, don't know what's going on here but dinner's ready! First, second and fifth divisions, it's your turn," Thatch shouted, coming out of one of the mess hall door that was directly leading to the main deck. A cheer was heard followed by thundering footsteps. Ace was already gone. Whitebeard stood up and laughed at his children's playfulness. Marco and Jill were still near the railing.

"You coming, yoi?"

"Yeah, I'll join you in a minute. I better put that somewhere safe." She waved her book, eliciting a chuckle from Marco. Hands in his pockets, he disappeared in the mess hall. Heaving a sigh, she realized her anxiety had vanished, as did Jeminy. That was over then.

Feeling the fatigue taking a toll on her, she smiled. She had lost and won things over the years. She had saved lives and helped many people. That was exactly what she had left Suim for, and despite the hardships they had already come through, she wouldn't change anything.

Still smiling, she left the Moby Dick's deck to its fleeting peace.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

It feels weird ending a story you've been thinking about for months... I had those magical moments when Jill was acting on her own and I just had to write to see her growing fierce and strong. That was a wonderful experience.

Now, I have some ideas about what to write next, but I don't really want to write them yet, so... if you want to read about some things, maybe I could work on it? Don't be afraid to tell me! :)

Anyway, see you around,  
Lily.

Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting


	4. Letting go (Haruta)

Author's note: Hey, long time no see! And Happy New Year. I wish you all the best for 2018, strong friendships, success, health and of course loads of great fanfictions to read!

Thank you PelagicChild, silverwolf1249, Blackthorn Ashe, Dragon Night Emperor, tofldh, ScarletSky153 and sdkop21 for your fav and/or follow. And thanks again tofldh for your review, I really appreciate it and I'm glad people enjoy what they're reading (and tell me they do!).

So, about this update, here is a new OS! I realised that its title was the same as LilianaRosana's story. If you have time and haven't read it already, just go read the heart-breaking yet enthralling story of my _compatriote_ writer!

As always, merci Corail-chérie.

And also thank you himmelblu. Because, thanks to our chat about Haruta and your future OS, I was able to go back to my own one-shot and write my take at Haruta's back-story.

 _Soundtrack_ : I think it's gonna rain today (Nina Simone) and The sailor's bonnet (The Gloaming)

I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it.

* * *

 **Sparks – Letting go (Haruta)**

For the third day in a row an unrelenting storm was striking the Moby Dick. The bright blue sky they had been sailing under was now all but a dream, hidden by monstrous grey clouds. Strikes of lightening were joining the roaring thunder, setting an occasional light on what was happening on deck. Sailors were coming and going, a rope around them, to check on some barrels' stowage and to make sure all the sails were perfectly rolled up. Some were also climbing the mast to take over from the looks-out standing ground in the crow's nest.

They hadn't faced such a fierce tempest in months but the experience of the World's Strongest Man's crew was making a huge difference. They were used to deal with the unpredictable. And thanks to the habits and rules engrained in them since their first day on board, both the ship and the men were only sporting minor damages.

The strong winds swept the rain away, intensifying the sickening and uncontrollable swaying of the ship. "The joy of the New World!" Whitebeard rumbled along with a laugh. His comment was met with a few snorts. As usual in those cases, all the devil fruit's users had been reduced to the inside of the ship to avoid any problem, and all the pirates that weren't already occupied or resting had gathered in the galley. There, most of the fourth division along with Jill and her nurses were busy providing their brothers with what they needed, be it hot food and drinks, dry clothes and blankets or first aid. On top of that, Haruta and some members of his division were playing music. Many sailors were singing or playing cards in order to pass the time and divert their minds before the next shift.

Ace was discovering all this with delight, basking in this strange atmosphere of slackening. It was a well-oiled strategy that had been proved efficient over the years. Or at least that what the commanders had said when he wondered.

A bell rang somewhere, relayed all over the ship through the snails-speakers. The music and games stopped as Marco and Izo came into the galley, papers in hand. "Alright, yoi. Time for a new shift."

The First mate called thirty names from all divisions, telling them their task for the next couple of hours. "From the intel I've gathered and our navigators, this storm is far from over so be extra careful while on deck." The sixteenth division's commander added. All the men nodded and the bell rang once again. The galley's double door were opened widely and the pirates went out on deck to find and relieve their fellow crewmates.

Moments after, worn out pirates came into the galley, shivering, soaking wet. A loud crack was heard along with a streak of lightening as the galley's doors were closed. A violent rocking sent the standing pirates on the floor with displeased grunts. Someone sneezed and that was all it took for the entire crew to burst out laughing. The captain and commanders smiled indulgently, more than aware of the excruciating rhythm that was weighing down on their family members, exhausting them. Whoever pretended that a pirate's life was an easy one surely never set sails themselves.

"Commander Izo! Commander Marco! Do you have any news? Will this be over soon?" said a blond man while standing up. All his brothers around him threw hopeful looks at their commanders.

"We're maintaining our course and advancing, slower than expected but still. We might get out of it by tomorrow morning, yoi." Sighs met Marco's declaration and all the pirates scattered across the galley.

"Brrr, I wish we had gone on submarine mode for this one..."

"Don't be dumb Alrik!" a man of the eight division intervened while drying his bare chest with a towel, "It was too fast, we weren't ready for it! Manoeuvring and coating the ship in those conditions would have been dangerous. Thank the Moby and its Adam wood or we would have capsized a couple times already!"

"That's right!" another member of the eight division said, "Just let us do what we do best, taking care of this ship!" He clasped both their shoulders, grinning, before moving away, to the drinks the fourth division had just brought.

Everyone settled down, finding what they needed or joining their comrades' banter and the music went on, slightly changing. Izo and Marco were doing a quick headcount to be sure no one from the previous shift was missing when Haruta came closer, concern clear in his eyes. "Where's Roby?"  
"Roby?" Izo frowned as Marco rustled the papers he had in hand.

"Alrick! Where's Roby?" Haruta yelled at the crowd.

"I don't know, Commander. He was securing weapons in the armoury with me but we got separated when we moved back here, I'm sure he's fine somewhere."

"And how would you know that?" the young man snapped.  
"Calm down Haruta, I'll go check in the armoury." Vista said, a soothing hand on his shoulder, but the brunet freed himself brusquely.

"No, I'll go. I'll use our tunnels, it'll be quicker." As he said so he went to the back of the galley, near the chef's counter and opened a hatchway before disappearing through it. A few moments later, he resurfaced in the mess hall. "Shit! The tunnels are flooded. Namur should be checking for a breach."

Worry was clear on his young features and Vista intervened again. "It's alright. I'm secured, I'll cross the deck and go check."

"No!" The music stopped. The twelfth commander ran to the door.

"Haruta..." Izo warned, throwing a look at their father who was overseeing it silently. Feeling something was off, he had decided not to step in the argument and to trust his sons to work it out instead. Marco was as speechless, stunned by Haruta's outburst. They all knew the young man wasn't fond of storms and very protective of his division's members but he had never been one to act that recklessly as a commander. Those excruciating days were probably tearing his patience and common sense apart.

Being called, the man stopped and looked at Izo, face pale but eyes shining fiercely. "He is in my division. It's _my_ responsibility. What if he's hanging on a rope somewhere outside in this mess? I can't leave him behind. I won't!" And he exited the galley.

"Haruta, wait!" Vista shouted, following him through the door, a rope secured around him and another one in his hand for his daredevil brother.

He was met with utter chaos. The roaring thunder was covering the sound of the strong waves crashing against the hull. The ship rocked and the man stood his ground, a hand firmly keeping his top hat on his head.

A few meter from him was the small shape of Haruta, hunched, trying to get back to the galley, gaining ground with difficulty. The young commander had underestimated that raging storm. A rookie's mistake.

The ship rocked again and he lost his balance before being sent crashing into the railing. Dread filled Vista before he ran to his brother. Righting himself with one hand gripping the wood, Haruta made a step toward him but was stopped by his scarf, caught by a nail.

"Come on!" Vista all but shouted to overcome the thunder's sound.

"Wait it's stuck!" He tried frantically to free himself without damaging his scarf, to no avail. Vista approached closer and glanced at the fabric. "We have to cut it!"

"N-no!"

He ignored the panicked tone of his brother and shouted again. "That's the only option!"

And before he could protest any further, a wave rolled over the ship and Haruta was thrown overboard, ripping his scarf up.

"Man overboard!" Vista ran to the galley, hollering, along with Namur's name.

The cold water shocked him, making him unable to catch his breath. He remembered how he hated that. The cold seeping through his bones, sucking his warmth away. He panicked, there was no light, the moon wasn't shining enough. The seawater was stinging his eyes. It reminded him of... _No!_ He flailed but he couldn't tell whether he was going back to the surface or plunging deeper and deeper in the depths of this dark and unwelcoming sea. Feeling the lack of oxygen, his movements became slower, sluggish, and he gave in to the darkness.

* * *

He regained consciousness when air was abruptly forced through his lungs. He rolled on his side and coughed water, throat raw and eyes burning from salt and tears. He gasped for air, feeling relieved and exhausted. Sobs mixed with his air intakes as he tried to speak.

A warm hand gently moved aside the wet hair stuck on his forehead. "Easy there! Take your time. Breathe." He recognized Jillian's voice.

"Shun!" Haruta muttered incoherently, shivering.

"He's in shock. I need a blanket! And some oxygen."

A nurse brought her one as many pirates in the galley were asked to step back to give them space. Marco helped sat Haruta up as Jill wrapped him in the cover, before sitting behind him and taking him in her arms.

"Haruta. Hey, it's okay. It's over. We got you. You're safe now." She repeated several times soothingly, before placing a mask on his face. "This is oxygen. All you have to do is breathe, okay? Focus on your breathing. In and out. Like that. Alright. There."

She moved a bit to be more comfortable on the floor and Haruta seemed to calm down, slowly regaining consciousness. A few moments later, he tried to speak and she pulled the mask off.

"R-roby?"

"We found him, yoi. He was showering." The young commander sighed in relief, his head resting against Jill's shoulder.

"How are you feeling, son?" Whitebeard asked from his seat, concerned.

"Stupid." Haruta laughed sadly before straightening up and slightly moving away from Jill who let him go. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I think I-I lost it. Thanks for rescuing me." He leaned his head and wiped with his hands the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Anytime." Namur said, a small smile on his face. "I'll go check the breach you found in the tunnels."

Jillian and the nurses were cleaning the spot and everyone now reassured got back to what they were previously doing, cards being shuffled, mugs emptied and voices ringing anew. Only the commanders lingered around Haruta, Marco and Izo whispering, preparing the next shift.

Vista came near and kneeled, offering him something. "There, little brother. You lost it." And he gave him back his scarf he caught mid-air.

"Th-thanks!" Haruta exclaimed before displaying it, and his face fell, hands trembling. "Oh no. It's torn." The fabric was indeed ripped into two pieces merely remaining together by a few threads.

Distress evident in his eyes, he stood up, discarding the blanket. He didn't care feeling cold and being wet. His scarf was all that mattered.

"Izo?" he asked shyly, approaching the commander, showing him his scarf. "C-can you sew it back together p-please?"

He was met with a smile as the kimono-clad man rose his eyes from the papers he had in hand. "Of course I can, but not before the fabric is dry. We'll have to wait a bit." Haruta held a protest back and withdrew to a corner of the galley, not before Jill put another blanket on his shoulders, asking him to take it easy and rest. He understood. He clutched his damaged scarf. He really wanted it repaired as soon as possible but he wasn't alone in here and there was things more important than an old piece of rag. But it was _his_ old piece of rag. One of his most precious belonging. That he had been unable to keep intact because of his own foolishness.

He held back his tears as he brought his knees up to his chest, clutching his scarf tighter, like it was an undreamt of lifeline.

That sight nearly broke Vista's heart. Haruta was one of the most joyous members of their crew, always ready to play with his brothers, prank someone or play some music to brighten their day. Seeing him so downcast... Well, they knew this scarf was important to him, it being a gift from a dear friend, but now it felt like there had more to it than it seemed in the first place. And he couldn't stand seeing one of his brothers suffering.

"We need to do something for him," he finally said, looking to Izo and Marco, before looking back to the small brunet.

"I'll sew it, I just need the scarf to be—" The sixteenth commander stopped himself mid-sentence. Ace was drawing closer to Haruta and sat next to him on the bench.

"I can dry it if you want," he offered, not beating around the bush.

Haruta gave him a cautious and surprised look. "You don't have to." He knew how the teen hated to be used as a personal heater.

"I know, but I want to. I won't burn it I promise." He sported a serious expression, one they had rarely seen him with. He extended his hand, patiently waiting for Haruta to make his mind.

"O-okay. But be careful." As he was about to give him his scarf, Ace put an hand on his, smiling.

"You'll do it. Wrap it around my arm. There. I'll raise my temperature and it'll be dry in no time." He smiled reassuringly, keeping the first part of the scarf on his warm arm with extra care. It produced a bit of steam and a few minutes later, it was dry. He carefully untied the scarf, before wrapping the second end around his arm. "See?" He smiled gently again, and when he was done he handed it over to Haruta who was now clutching at a dry scarf. "Thanks, Ace."

"No problem."

The brunet looked expectantly to Izo, who throw a look to Marco. "Can I...?" he wondered.

"Sure, go ahead. I can take it from there, yoi."

"Thank you. Come on Haruta. Let's go to my room."

The brunet stood up and joined the man, exiting the galley through a door leading to the insides of the Moby. They were walking along the galley's corridor to the Commanders' Quarters, crossing the kitchen's door, when someone called out to them. Thatch emerged from the kitchen, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. "There, bro. Don't worry okay? Izo will fix it in no time." He smiled, patting the brunet's head after handing him his mug. If he had put an extra dose of marshmallow in the chocolate, he didn't say anything.

Lights flickered and they resumed their walk, heading to Izo's room. The ship swayed a few times before they reached the door. Izo closed it behind them with a sigh, glad everything was still in place. "I can't believe it's almost the fourth day of storm."

"I hate it," Haruta replied as he sat on the bed, waiting for Izo to take his sewing kit out of his wardrobe. When he did, he sat at his desk to fetch the tools he needed.

"Why does it bother you that much? I believe we've seen worse," he asked, not looking at the young commander, hearing him fiddling with his scarf.

"I... It's wet, cold and grey. It feels like it will never end, that we will forever be sailing doing shifts and being confined inside. And that rhythm is really exhausting our family, each day increasing the risk of losing someone because of inattention or negligence."

Izo hid a fond smile at hearing how Haruta cared about their family, yet his declaration somehow hurt his commander's pride. "We're not careless. We couldn't have a better system to prevent major problems while still running the ship. And we always check on everyone."

"I know. And I didn't meant it that way. We're doing all we can to avoid any loss, but... The sooner we get out of this, the better. Because, sometimes it's not enough. You're extra careful, making sure everything is alright and mere seconds later, everything's upside down... What you feared the most had happened and you can't do anything to right this wrong."

The bell announcing a new shift rang and Izo hummed, standing before sitting next to Haruta on his bed, making himself comfortable. He extended his hand. "May I?"

Haruta gave him his scarf, almost reluctantly, and nursed his steaming mug instead. The crossdresser examined the fabric cautiously and nodded, before starting to work. Haruta couldn't supress a flinch when he separated the two pieces of material with his scissors. As Vista had voiced it, this scarf mattered much more to Haruta than what they had thought. And he didn't know why but he believed it to be closely related to what had happened earlier.

He had been as stunned as Marco and _Oyaji_ by Haruta's reaction. Because, for sure the commander could be childish and stubborn but he generally knew better than to act without thinking it through, even when it involved the security of one of his men. But this rage and this distress he had shown... He hadn't recognised him for a second, before realising what was happening and trying to stop him.

So he wondered, "Is that why you acted so recklessly? You were afraid to lose one of our brothers?" His eyes fixed on the back and forth of his sewing needle, he only heard Haruta's sharp breath intake before his voice rang in the room, unsure.

"It's... Yeah... I-I can't really explain it, even to myself. That storm, Roby missing and the tiredness. It reminded me of... _things_. I was like overwhelmed and... I-I snapped."

Izo hummed again, feeling his brother's restlessness. He decided to give him time to gather himself and to share whatever was desperately swirling in his mind if he felt like it. And he knew he would.

Soon enough, Haruta talked. "Do you remember how I joined the crew?"

"Of course I do." Izo smiled. When it seemed like Haruta wouldn't pick up on that, he decided to elaborate. "A fierce storm had broken the masts of your boat and you and your crew were drifting, helpless, before we crossed your path. You all looked so lost and desperate, dehydrated even... We took you on board, treating you and offering to take you to the next island we were coming alongside. Most of your former crewmates agreed, but you... You all had some time to get to know us, and when _Oyaji_ offered, you decided to stay, to join us. You left them at the island, but before parting, that girl...

"Asuna." A whisper.

"Asuna gave you her scarf." He shook the fabric slightly. Haruta nodded.

"Yeah, that's what most of you know. But I lied." He looked grimly at the content of his cup. "It wasn't Asuna's scarf, just like it wasn't really my crew. Well, not at first." His eyes went back to Izo's hands, never leaving his sight long. Noticing they had stopped their work, he looked at his brother's face and saw his surprise.

"I don't know why I didn't tell any of you earlier, but there's never been a right time," he chuckled, ill at ease, rubbing his right shoulder with his hand. "I guess it's been too long now and it resurfaced somehow."

Understanding Haruta needed this time to get rid of some of his sorrow, Izo regained his composure, softened his features but slowed his repairs. It wouldn't do any good to him to cut this moment short by finishing early.

"I was an only child and with my parents we often moved from island to island because of their work. But one day, they never came back. Shipwreck or something... I was left with debts as their only legacy, forced to sell everything I had. I was twelve but I didn't want to go to an orphanage, so I fled. I was living on the streets for a couple months, trying to fend for myself, when I met Shun. He was seventeen." He paused and smiled. "I still don't know why... What he saw in me... But he brought me to his house, some sort of shack. That's where I met Asuna and the rest of the group –fifteen at most –, and we started helping each other. He taught me violin and swordsmanship."

Izo gently smoothed the fabric in his hands. Most of the time he wasn't directly looking at his younger brother, giving him some sort of privacy to allow him to pour his heart out without feeling scrutinized. Telling and being listened to was hard enough for him, Izo knew that.

"We were some sort of gang, young street rats they called us. We robbed and fought and did what we had to do in order to survive. Even though it wasn't pretty... But Shun grew tired of living each day as a fight, a struggle, and he came with the idea of going away. He had always been fascinated by what the merchants brought back from their trips and wanted to see those places, to travel the world. It appealed to most of us, and soon we gathered what we had, robbed what we were lacking of and we bought a small boat."

He paused and drank from his cooling mug. The sixteenth commander still slowly working, clicked his tongue before removing the thimble from his finger, muttering, "Better."

"We set sail and it was... A bright new life! Well, for them. They were so happy, so excited and so enthusiastic. I remember the parties we threw to celebrate our freedom and their smiles. I was only fourteen but I was more guarded, fully aware of all the dangers we could encounter and not feeling that well on the sea. But the happiness of those I had come to see as my closest and dearest friends was my reward. Shun was nineteen and a great leader, a wonderful captain. Asuna was eighteen and doing her best as each and every one of us. We sailed smoothly for a bit more than two years. Oh there had been storms and fights and all but we did well. We learned a lot. Shun relied more on me and I even came to enjoy this trip and the discoveries we made on each island we stopped by. I relaxed and it happened: the worst storm we ever had to deal with."

He took a breath. The ship's sporadic rocking along with the wood creaking were the only hints the storm was still raging on. "We weren't as ready as we should have been but we reacted quickly. Securing ropes around us and to the ship to prevent accidents... But with this strong headwind slowing our ship, we needed to furl the sails and our ropes weren't long enough, so Shun... Shun untied himself. Our schooner had two masts with two sails on each. Two crewmates went to the mizzen mast when Shun was climbing the rigging of our mainmast. I knew he couldn't furl those sails alone so I untied myself in turn and followed him. It was... One of the scariest things I've ever done."

He gulped down the rest of his chocolate before standing up to put it on Izo's desk, where it wouldn't fall with the ship's swaying. Rubbing his hands together he sat back down, cross-legged, facing Izo a bit more.

"Despite the wind, the rain and the waves lashing on us it went... Surprisingly well! But once we were back on deck and tying ourselves back, waves grew stronger and some crashed over us. I just had time to wind the rope around my wrist and grip it firmly before I was shaken like a mere doll. But Shun had no such luck. He was thrown overboard."

He stopped to scratch at his right wrist, like he still could feel the burning abrasion the rope had left in its wake.

"We were just humans, we didn't have anyone like Namur in our crew, so we tried to rescue him the best we could. I finally jumped into the water against everyone's advice. They secured me nonetheless. It felt like it took ages before I was able to reach him. I caught him eventually and they pulled us back on deck but..." he stopped, his voice cracking.

"But it was too late, right?" Izo continued. The lack of answer was an answer in itself. A chilling one. But his voice, hoarse, rang again.

"We were devastated. Asuna was... Shun and her were together, maybe even before we set sails, but sailing drew them closer. There's no word to describe how she must have feel. He was our captain, our friend. She..." He cleared his throat and Izo's hand pressed his shoulder in comfort. "I don't know how but we got out of that storm and found an island where we gave Shun a proper burial and took time to grieve. And... Before letting him go, she took his scarf." And his eyes fell on Izo's lap where said scarf was negligently nestled. The man hid his shock, now fully understanding how important it was for Haruta. A thoughtful silence stretched.

"And after that?" he asked.

"We doubted. We didn't know what to do. Should we continue our journey or...? But we had nowhere to go back to. So we decided to sail and find a place to settle down. Our crew needed a leader and I took that charge after Asuna asked me to. We sailed for four or five months before encountering the storm that broke our masts. You said we looked desperate. We were. Even more than you thought. I vividly remember Asuna babbling deliriously due to food deprivation. Talking about meeting Shun soon..." He shivered.

"And then, Pops took us to an island and offered us to be part of his family. They didn't voiced it but I knew that many of us had already had the family they needed and even Whitebeard's crew couldn't equal that. But I... When they just set sail to follow Shun and travel a bit, I was hearing the call of the sea. And Asuna understood. I believe she saw something more to it. And that's why she gave me Shun's scarf. So you can fulfill his dream and always be remembered of us, she said. Of the love we shared and will share even though we're apart." He wiped his eyes.

"And now I feel so stupid. Losing it for fear of something that might be happening, endangering myself and my brothers even." He sniffed. "I mean, it's been eight years already and look at me! Still clinging to that old piece of rag as if it was a holy thing!"

Izo sighed. "Don't be so hard with yourself. You value as important what you deem right to be." When he saw the young man was about to respond, he beat him to it. "And it's totally fine! We all have our little things, trust me. Take Marco and his sash, Ace and his hat, Vista and his sword or me and my clothes. You've got a scarf, so what? We all value different things differently and it's fine. But what's even better is when we know what those things that matter so much to someone close to us are. So we can try and protect them as our own." And with those words, he wrapped the repaired scarf around Haruta's neck.

That was when his brother's face fell and he broke down in tears. He tried to muffle his sobs with his hand and it was more than Izo could withstand.

"Oh, come here," he said as he took Haruta in his arms, hugging him tight as he felt the boy trembling.

"I was s-so s-scared!" he stuttered as he clung to the back of Izo's kimono.

"I know. I know. But it's over now."

It took several minutes before Haruta was able to gather himself and get away from his brother's embrace, softly apologising in the process. Izo didn't even bother picking him up on it, knowing Haruta didn't like proximity much. Not when he felt weak anyway.

He wiped his face with his sleeves. "Ah gosh..." He sighed, before adding derisively, looking at the wooden floor, "Considering the number of times Marco threw us overboard for pranking him, I should be desensitized! But that... I really hate it. The cold, the dark, the loneliness... I can't help but feel like it was what Shun went through... I can totally relate to that helplessness." He looked briefly at Izo. "Even though I knew Namur would come and help me. He always do."

* * *

They had fallen in a comfortable silence, both mulling over what had just been unveiled, when Haruta snickered, fiddling with his scarf. "There's something... When Asuna left, she gave me that but... She also told me she was with child. She found out through Jillian." He smiled, eyes shining. "Several months later, Haru was born."

" _Haru_ , as in spring?"

"As in clear weather. Asuna send me a letter not long after she gave birth, telling me I had a niece now." Izo smiled, glad for his brother, thankful even, because he had learned through the years how much having a family meant to him.

A bell rang again, telling the two commanders it was time for another shift.

"Already?" Izo wondered. Haruta smiled at the weary tone of his brother as he stood up, cleaning and putting his sewing kit back in his wardrobe.

"Yeah, we should go back there," he said, enjoying the sweet and calm atmosphere that was filing Izo's room. It was pared-down, yet it didn't look like any other room: the wall facing the wardrobe was a fresco Izo was painting. He had painted the whole wall in white a few years ago, like a blank canvas, and drew on it occasionally since, painting inside frames he imagined of various sizes. It looked like an eclectic gallery but in all that, Whitebeard's crest was a recurring pattern, along with strange symbols Haruta didn't know of. He assumed it was Izo's mother tongue. It looked stunning, unique and soothing. And he felt lucky to be able to admire it. Only few people were allowed in Izo's quarters. The man enjoyed his privacy.

"Only if you feel okay," said man said, stirring him from his contemplation.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you Izo."

"Ah nonsense!" Haruta chuckled again, knowing his brother never knew how to deal with sincere compliments.

"Come on, Izo, let's join our brothers." He took his mug from the desk and exited the room, Izo behind him. As they walked side by side, the calm receded, met by noises of life: the clinking from the kitchen, the laughs from the galley...

Haruta felt like he was slowly but steadily walking out of some strange state of confusion. He was beginning to understand, to comprehend the fears that had overwhelmed him. The fear of losing a brother, the fear of losing his scarf and the fear for his own life had entangled themselves so tightly that he couldn't really tell what had led to that. He only knew it had been too much, and well, all things considered, he didn't feel like dwelling on that now. Talking to Izo had done him good. He felt more relaxed, having told to someone he trusted what had been plaguing his mind intermittently.

They pushed the galley's door open and were met with warmth. Several heads turned to smile at the young commander and he smiled in return. Marco came closer, looking busy, with more papers in hand than the last time they saw him.

"Izo, your division brought me some news, yoi." He gave the man some papers. "It will be over soon, they said. Three hours, or maybe less."

Haruta sighed in relief as his brothers went by to the commanders' table to examine those news. He took that chance to behold the galley. Many were drinking and eating, chatting or playing cards. The newcomers of the previous shift had already been taken care of. Jillian and some of her nurses were taking a break. He noticed his musicians were chatting casually, instruments in hand, in the corner where the piano was.

He went to the kitchen's counter where he placed his empty mug and winked at Thatch, before heading for the musicians' corner. Walking past the commander's table, he smiled at his father and captain.

He clapped his hands to draw his men's attention, and in a swift movement, he jumped on the grand piano. "Well, well, what's with those faces people hm?!" he said loudly looking to his men and to the room.

"We're lacking music, here, aren't we?" Cheers and applause ensued. He went down the piano and behind it to fetch an instrument case. Opening it, he pulled his violin out along with some scores. He picked one out of them all and gave it to the pianist with a small grateful nod.

After tuning their instruments, he climbed back on the piano. "We have three hours to go. So let's enjoy them to their fullest!"

When the noise decreased, his face fell, concentration clear on his features, and he began playing. The violin rang in the air, _soli_ met by the discreet piano at the end of his measures. The galley's acoustics seemed surprisingly perfect for such music. A stunned silence filled his ears and he smiled.

His siblings weren't used to see him like this, to hear him playing folk, and that stripped. They probably thought he was more of a piano guy. And it wasn't completely untrue. But violin was his favourite instrument when he wanted to say or share things. And by the gods, he hadn't done that in a long time!

It was a music piece Shun had taught him years ago. He had spent hours learning it, playing it over and over again. They added the piano later to give it some depth, some support, and because _duo_ were funnier to play. Called _The Sailor's Bonnet_ , he had come to see it as the perfect soundtrack to his life.

Simple, slowly increasing yet exuberant at times, you could feel the passion in this tune. It spoke of shadows creeping around and light not that far away. He knew it had a strength that had bewitched many, a melodic power able to speak for itself, to tell a story of its own.

It was like a tide, the ebb and flow of the sea, of life, that kept growing toward a liberating _crescendo_. Melancholy at first, like the weariness of a journey, the empty space left inside you by what you left behind, whatever it was. The notes of the piano like a metronome, cadencing time, setting the tempo of the story, grounding you. It told of islands hidden by the fog, of farewells, of wishes made upon the brightest stars, of warm winds carrying longstanding promises.

The bow glided on the strings, following a well-known rhythm. Soon enough the melody changed, becoming slightly livelier. The piano followed suit and Haruta smiled to his partner.

He liked this part, telling about light and hope and love, depicting some cosy home somewhere, a fire brightly burning in the hearth. Sun shining after hours of darkness and people finally being reunited, familiar faces enlarged by sparkling smiles.

Resting his chin against the glazed wood, he enjoyed the vibrations. Music was such a curious thing. Telling with no words, what a wonderful magic!

It transcended him. He knew it by heart and could feel the excitement pulsating in his veins as he foresaw the _crescendo_ and future burst of music, of joy. His feet started to stomp the piano in a regular beat, soon met by his musicians and brothers. The atmosphere changed in the blink of an eye, warming up.

And as predicted, after the mellowness came the freedom, the utter glee. Plunging the room in swirls of happiness, the music grew louder, fiercer, even more passionate. Haruta had closed his eyes, carried away.

There it was, the relief! This warm feeling bubbling in his chest... Love, hope, acceptance and completeness all at once! Those moments always filled him with this absolute certainty that he was born to be here, to live that.

And it felt amazing, knowing you were right where you needed to be.

As the melody reached its end, when the last notes finally scattered in thin air, Haruta hoped he had convoyed all that. Hearing nothing but silence, he opened his eyes and by the look on most of his crewmates' faces, he knew he had succeeded.

His fiddle in hand, he chuckled nervously before bowing slightly in front of his still stunned brothers. It took another moment before applause, shouts and whistles were heard.

Izo gripped the papers he had in hands tighter to hide their trembling. What Haruta had just done... He didn't know how but he heard it all, the struggle, the longing, the promises, the joy... And it was amazing, heart-warming. His brother had showed them a part of his soul today and what delicate yet strong part it was!

"See?" He said voice slightly shaking before regaining his composure. "I told you he would be fine." "Right." Vista answered. All the commanders around him chuckled.

Haruta put his violin back in his case, not before gently patting it, thanking it for that great moment. Standing back up he shouted. "Come on comrades, it's not over yet!" And with a small gesture, another music started.

Pirates cheered and resumed what they were previously doing as the fourth division was bringing new trays of steaming food.

The atmosphere relaxed again and Whitebeard smiled knowingly, proud of his sons and glad as always to see them working through the hardships coming their way, be it from the present or from the past.

* * *

A/N : There. Thanks for reading! Don't be afraid to leave a review or send me a PM to tell me what you think of it.  
You already know it, but feedback is important.

And like last time, I have some ideas on what to write next but if you have any ideas, don't be afraid to tell me either.

See you around!  
Lily.

Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting


	5. Bearing fangs (Part 1)

A/N: Hello there! Long time no see, eh?

Yeah, I know, it's been months but sometimes life calls you back from your lovely writing world and you just have to deal with it. Anyway, here's a new OS, to celebrate the first day of NaNoWriMo!

Down there you'll meet another OC but bear with me. That lady really wanted to be heard! And it allowed me to write down several thoughts that had been bugging me since I first dove in the OP fandom years, years ago.

 _Soundtrack_ : Totally irregular this time around (but Mystical Medieval Chants are a wonder for focusing)

Thank you Caigdimo, Rebelgirl01, kurosakidarkangle98, FinoalCielo and Zialema for your fav and/or follow.  
And my biggest thanks to sdkop21, Anni, AndurilofTolkien, Guest and particularly to Harmonica Smile and Zialema for your amazing reviews. It kept me going!

Merci Corail Chérie pour cette lecture matinale et pour tes commentaires et pour ton soutien. I have the best writing buddies.

On with the reading now. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Sparks – Bearing fangs (Part 1)**

The sun had just began to rise on the horizon but Thatch was already out on deck, looking at the calm sea. Everything around him was silent, his crewmates and brothers still enjoying the few hours of rest they had, except for those on night shift, who were invisibly making sure the ship followed its course smoothly.

He slightly envied those who were able to take any chance they had to sleep. Being a light sleeper, he couldn't. So here he was, resting his elbows on the Moby's railing, a steaming mug of coffee by his side, taking in the view. The Chef's privilege he guessed. The members of his division would be up soon enough, readying themselves for their day. He was now used to this strange rhythm, a bit out of sync with everyone else.

Sighing, he took a cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket and lighted it up. The first drag filled him with contentment, quelling his restlessness. A weird dream had woken him, involving lack of food again. It was something he never laughed about, considering the size of the crew and the amount of food they required. He had checked their food supplies three times this morning, just in case, before going out to breathe and change his mind.

He took another puff, savouring it. He knew if she found out, their doctor would be mad at him, not openly so but still. Jillian didn't like it when people were playing with their health under her care. He remembered the crash course she gave him on a cigarette's composition and how she advised him to go to Izo because the crossdresser was using a less-addictive tobacco. They all knew she wasn't happy with some of the crewmembers' dependence, but they were grown men and she knew better than to lecture them about it.

He was in the middle of dragging on his cigarette when it was snatched out of his mouth with an expert hand. _Speak of the devil_... With a quick flick of her fingers the ashes fell in the water and Jill brought the cigarette to her mouth. "I'm saving mere minutes of your life" was her answer to his silent question when he looked at her, curious. Thatch chuckled, exhaling the smoke as she took a puff.

He realised she didn't look like a beginner. "What's wrong?"

Her high ponytail and her dangling earrings waved with the wind. She exhaled in turn before replying, "Your stupid brothers... Pete fell from his bunk and broke his nose." He grimaced, sympathising.

They took the stunning view in for a moment before Thatch voiced out something that bugged him in Jill's previous sentence. "They're yours too you know?"  
She didn't say anything, and it was an answer in itself. After another drag, she stubbed the cigarette out on the wood's railing before throwing the end in Thatch's empty mug. She sighed at the look he was giving her.

"Thatch... It's barely six in the morning..."

"I know!" he exclaimed raising his hands in defence, "But... It's been nine years already!"

"So what? I already tried to explain it to you. It doesn't sit well with me. It's harder to treat brothers than crewmates and I want to do my job properly."

"But— " he frowned, puzzled.

"Am I that cold to the whole crew? Did some of them complained?" She wasn't the most outgoing person on board but she never turned anyone down.

"What? No! Of course not!"

"So where's the problem?"

Thatch's frown deepened. "We're one big family. And I don't like it when you act or say that you're not a part of it."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on Thatch! Just because it doesn't feel like a family to me doesn't mean I want to be anywhere else! I feel at home here and some of you are my dearest friends. I would trust all of you with my life but I can't resolve myself to call _all of you_ brothers. I understand you don't really get it, but for me, that's the way it is."

The chef waited a bit, trying to understand, but he couldn't really wrap his mind around that. He finally sighed, giving up for now. "Alright... Coffee?" he asked, waving his own empty mug.

"Yes, please."

He smiled before turning around. "Be right back, just enjoy this rising sun!"

The door closed behind the man and Jillian sighed in turn, leaning on the railing, watching the clear water lapping at the wooden hull. It was too early in the morning to have those kind of deep and meaningful conversations. But she had told Thatch the truth and was glad he hadn't pushed it. She had to put some distance between her and the crewmates she could be treating. Her feelings would only cloud her judgment. Not mentioning the fact that she already had a brother and a father. And great ones at that! Of course they didn't mean it as a replacement but it still felt a bit like it: every time it was mentioned, she just let it slip.

She got along well with most of the commanders and had immense respect for Whitebeard. She trusted them but she definitely couldn't view each and every crewmember as a brother. The concept of a pirate family was a nice one but with so many people in the crew it was absolutely impossible to know and treat everyone equally.

The years spent with them had proven her right: commanders were spending most of their time with other commanders, division members with their division. Brother was more a title than a reality, no matter what they said. They cared for everyone, that was for sure, but no-one could nurture a close and strong brotherhood with each and every one of his thousand siblings. Not mentioning the fact that if Commander was a title it was also a responsibility and commanders had to treat their division's members equally. They couldn't play favourites hence the need to keep some distance with their crewmates. But it was alright, because no-one complained so far. So most of the time she got away with it by simply pretending she was buying this brotherhood thing even though she was avoiding calling any crewmember "brother".

Her thoughts were cut short by a steaming mug entering her eyesight and she thanked Thatch. They drank in silence as the sun rose. Their next halt was still a couple weeks ahead but as always their course was drawing them on and off towards more lively seas. And if the many merchants' ships they had encountered in the past few days was anything to go by, this sea was buzzing. And though they handled themselves and had cordial if not peaceful relationships with most of the civilians, meeting the open sea again and resuming their usual work would do all of them good.

The Moby Dick was quietly sailing off the coast of some islands and Jillian smiled, elbowing Thatch. "Look, this one looks like a whale!" The Chef hummed. "Really? I'm seeing a meaty drumstick."

"Oh, just because your life revolves around food doesn't mean you have to see it everywhere!" the doctor exclaimed with mock indignation, "Here, what about this one?" She gestured toward the island some miles away from the whale-shaped one.

''Hmmmm..." Fingers under his goatee, he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, creating small wrinkles around his eyes. "It's... a crooked M?"

"That's a swimming camel Thatch," she said, deadpanned.

"If you say so!" He laughed before focusing on something. "And this... is a paddle boat?"

"Wait what? Where?" He showed her a shape slowly moving on the horizon between the two islands they were passing by. "But he's way too far from the coast! With the waves and the currents..."

"Yeah, he's reckless. Not mentioning potential sea monsters..." Thatch frowned before turning to one of the crewmembers standing guard near the bow, on the upper deck. "Oi! Lend me your spyglass!"

He came back, spyglass in hand and looked at the shape again. It was indeed a paddle boat, as yellow and bright as a floating sunflower and... " _He_ is a _she_."

"What?" Jill came closer to him, hoping to see something.

"Damn she's pedalling fast! Feels like she fleeing away from that island, trying to reach the other. But her paddle boat is already drifting toward us. There, look."

He gave her the binoculars and she watched in turn as a woman with white hair was struggling. "Yeah, the currents are too strong for her boat already... She's pale. If she keeps this pace she won't last long. Ah never mind, she fainted." She saw her body go limp as her boat stopped its course, now only led by the waves.

"You're right Thatch, with the strength of the flow, she will be here soon. We can't let her crash against us... What do we do?"

"I'll go fetch her when she's close enough. We'll warn Pops and the others and maybe we could drop her off on the island she was aiming at?"

"Fine by me, commander." She winked as he let out an embarrassed laugh. "I'll go wake my nurses to tell them to get ready and I'll warn Marco."

She disappeared through the door of the main deck leading to her sickbay and stopped by Marco's door to knock six times before resuming her walk. Opening the door of the infirmary she was met with the thick scent of fresh coffee. Four of her nurses were already awake and quietly chatting around a cup of the blessed beverage.

"Morning ladies, we have a female guest!" She hadn't even finished her sentence that they had already jumped on their feet, cups back on the food trolley, ready to follow any of her orders. She didn't have time to feel proud about that simple fact so she went on. "No visible injury but we'll need a blood test. Get the stretcher out. I also want two IV kits ready, one with saline, the other with sugar. She is coming our way. Once she is on board, I'll take her in immediately, so get ready." She then told them more about the situation and dispatched all of the four nurses according to her requests.

Looking at the clock, she knew it was time to go back to the main deck. Putting her white coat on, she took her stethoscope, a baby snailphone and exited the infirmary. She drove the stretcher cautiously in the large corridors, running next to it, and crossed the path of the First mate as he was closing his door.

"Good morning Marco, Magda will brief you! No need to wake the Captain!" she greeted his surprised yet sleepy face without even slowing and gestured to a blond nurse far behind, that was coming to meet him.

Focusing, she arrived on deck only to see a gigantic sea monster facing the side of the ship where she had left Thatch. Several pirates were there but the man was nowhere to be seen. She rushed to the railing, only to be met with the sight of the Fourth Division Commander fiercely standing on the paddle boat. The blades of the two swords he had in his hands shone in the now bright light of the morning. He was shielding the woman sprawled on her seat, still dead to the world.

Jillian refrained herself from calling his name, not wanting to distract him. She knew better than to intervene in any of the crewmembers fights with those giant monsters. With practiced ease Thatch jumped from the paddleboat and beheaded the fish in a swift motion while still in the air. Using the falling body as a springboard he jumped back on the paddleboat. The waves created by the crashing dead body strongly rocked the small embarkation. Keeping his balance, Thatch faced the Moby Dick and grinned.

"Guess tonight's dinner's almost ready!"

Jill smiled. "Well done Commander!" Several other shouts were heard, coming from the pirates that were guarding the Moby.

"So where's this rope I asked for ages ago?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow towards his audience.

"There, Commander." Someone threw him one end, and tying it to the paddleboat he waited for his crewmates to drag them near the hull of their boat, where a rope ladder was already waiting for them.

Hauling the limp body of the girl on his right shoulder, he ascended and Jill retreated towards the stretcher, making sure everything was still in place even though she knew it was.

Thatch's pompadour emerged first and the man was soon on board, a hand firmly securing the passed out burden on his shoulder. The curious crewmates made him a way and he approached the doctor before gently dropping the woman off on the stretcher. Jill immediately took over, stethoscope in her ears.

"Damn, she's hot." He took a moment to catch his breath and his eyes wandered on the unconscious body. He then became aware that the slightly crowded deck was now silent and several pirates were sporting anxious expressions, looking between him and Jillian, that had gone still.

She raised her head and he realised his mistake. He paled and frantically waved his hands.

"U-uh wait. No no no, I mean… I'm no doctor but she has a fever."

He saw Jill's body shaking and he felt cold sweat trickling down his back. _Oh no._

The doctor wasn't able to contain herself and she doubled up in laughter, soon followed by some pirates. Clutching her stomach, she laughed heartily. Her earrings shook with the motion. "Oh… Oh oh oh! Thatch!"

She cackled, trying to regain her composure. She took a few deep breaths and wiped her teary eyes before looking back at the commander. But seeing his baffled face, another burst of laughter escaped her lips.

"Oh my… Ahahah! That face!" The man was gaping, not really understanding how he got in this situation in the first place. He had been prepared for Hell to broke lose, not for a good laughing session at his expense.

Seeing the joke had been going long enough for the Fourth Commander's pride, Jill stopped laughing and cleared her throat. "Hm. Sorry! But really. Am I that scary?" The man had been looking like she was about to rip him apart with her bare hands.

The ensuing silence made her sigh. "Okay nevermind, rhetorical question!"

Focusing back on the woman, she put her hand on her forehead before taking her pulse. "But you were right, Thatch, she has a bit of a fever. And look." She grabbed the woman's wrist, inspecting it. "Is this…?"

She cut herself midsentence feeling everyone around her getting closer to take a look. Repressing another sigh, she raised her head again and looked at the pirates leaning on each other to get to see what she was referring to. "Don't you all have things to do? Looking through spyglass and stuff?"

"She's right. Back to work guys!" With a clap of his hands, everyone scattered on deck, giving Thatch space to go to Jill's sides. Looking to the woman's hands he understood Jillian's surprise.

"It's…"

"Yeah…" She couldn't help but touch her earrings, and Thatch knew that, like all of her jewels, they were made out of seastone, the main material of her home island. "Should we remove it?"

"No."

Jill looked at the woman's face, slightly red, framed by her white strands of hair. "But if she sustains any injury that a devil fruit could heal…"

It was Thatch's turn to sigh. "Jillian, she looks harmless like that but we don't know anything about her. We can't risk everyone's safety. She better keep those." He had taken his serious commander tone but softened his features and smiled a little. "Besides, she might be just like you and wearing it for no other purpose than liking it."

"But this kind of things are rather expensive Thatch. I could afford those because there was plenty at home. I doubt there's that many islands like mine."

"In any case…"

"I won't remove them yet. I'll bring her in, do a full check-up and take it from there."

"Alright!" He smiled. "And while you do this, I'll go fetch that sea monster and check on my cooks."

The woman nodded, before she woke up her baby den den mushi.

"Ok sickbay, she seems fine, no rush. Anna, I forgot but could you go check on Pete? He should be resting in his division's room. I'll manage with Magda, Joan and Ella. Girls, on top of everything I'll need an ice pack because our patient here is a bit too warm, probably from the strain she put on herself. Anyhow, I'm on my way."

She heard a "Roger!" and drove the stretcher towards the inside of the ship, not without asking Thatch to save her some breakfast.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she understood she was in some sickbay. She heard the steady drop by drop of some IV drip. Something cold was on her forehead. Feeling better already, she took it off and placed her hand on one of the safety barrier the bed had to help herself into a sitting position. Pain arose unannounced and she screamed as a knife stabbed her right thigh. She curled her free hand around the ice pack as several needles pierced her forearms' skin, a gash opened her belly, and bruises blossomed on her chest and on her cheeks. She doubled up in pain, tears in her eyes as she moaned.

"Hey, what's wrong? Hey, do you hear me? Where does it hurt?"

A hand was on her naked shoulder, shaking her lightly and the pain receded. The smells of blood and disinfectant mixed with the sweet scent of the detergent was replaced by the smells of smoke and yet to be extinguished fire. She could hear screams coming from everywhere but in front of her lay a red-haired young man. He wasn't breathing anymore. She didn't know why but it pained her. She could feel the hard cobbled ground under her shins and the wetness of her hands in the latex gloves. She felt dizzy. With what remained of her strength she thrusted the doctor's hand away and gasped for air.

Coming back to her senses, she screamed. "Don't touch me!" She looked at her arms and her heart skipped a bit. _Oh no… No no no no no..._ "Where are they?" she wondered aloud, eyes wide as she looked around frantically.

"Ok, calm down. My name's Jill—" But she wasn't listening.

"Where are they?" she asked again, slightly panicking when she realised they were nowhere to be seen. "Why did you take them off? You had no right!" Outrage was there too. She couldn't believe it. What was she even doing here?

Jillian paled and raised her hands, trying to catch her attention. _Shit_. She forgot. "I needed to check on you and—"

"I don't care." Her voice was high-pitched with despair. The hand clutching one of her wrists was shaking. She couldn't focus on anything else than the emptiness _there_. She had let her guard down and she was now the Maiden knew where without… Without… Her breath hitched. _NO!_

"I want them back. I _need_ them back. Give them back to me! Now!" she screamed. The air seemed to quiver around her but the doctor didn't flinch at her outburst. She had to try. But… What now? What could she do now? Cry? Beg? She needed them, she needed them before… Before…

"Look, I'm sorry, I forgot to put your bracelets back. I'll give them to you. But why don't you tell me why you need them that much first?" Jill's voice rang again, curious yet soothing, but it was too much. She couldn't stand it, she had never asked for any of this. Why? Why? That was just a sick nightmare and… She wasn't strong enough to face it all over again.

She gave in, bowing her head in defeat. "I... I... Just give them back. I can't... _Please_..." Desperate tears rolled down her cheeks and she trembled, founding it hard to breathe.

Jillian got even more worried and came closer to her bed, her hands plainly visible. "I will. But for now I need you to calm down and breathe. It's alright. We'll give you a little something to help." Jillian gestured to one of her nurses that had been standing by the woman's side all along and she injected something in the IV drip. "You're safe here, okay? Just relax."

The woman finally went limp and Jillian sighed as she tucked her in. She had really messed up, but she had been fascinated by those bracelets. She didn't know that woman valued them so much. She had taken the time to study them and they were not made from regular seastone either. Extracting one from her white coat's pocket, she wrapped it back around one of the woman's wrist.

What was strange too was that they had checked for any injury twice and found nothing. But that girl had really screamed and looked like she was in pain. And she had become pale and expressionless when she touched her, as if she had gone elsewhere for a mere moment. She didn't get it… Maybe it was her devil fruit or something else? Now she couldn't wait to find out why this girl needed those seastone bracelets that much.

* * *

Once the sickbay was quiet again, Jillian resumed her paperwork and filled the unknown woman's file. Marco and Izo had quickly dropped by to have a look and tell her about an upcoming meeting with the captain.

She was about to leave for the meeting room when a crewmate entered the sickbay holding his left arm close to his chest. The girls were having their breakfast. Repressing a sigh she smiled and led him toward an empty bed.

When she reached the meeting room, they had already started and Izo was telling them what he had gathered.

"—and we found a wanted notice in her belongings. Insignificant bounty to be honest, and I've never heard anything about her either."

Finishing his sentence he gave the bounty poster to Marco and looked at Jill.

"Sorry, Alrik from the fifth sprained his wrist." She raised her hand when she saw Vista about to say something. "He's fine and Joan is back in the sickbay so everything's in check." She sat on one of the many empty chairs as the man nodded. All the commanders on board were here.

"Thank you son," Whitebeard intervened, nodding towards Izo. "How is she, Jillian?"

"Mostly fine." The woman sighed as she handed her file to him. "Dehydrated and exhausted. She overexerted herself. She woke up earlier but got really anxious so we had to sedate her. She should be out for another hour at least. No apparent injuries except for a scar, a marine brand in fact, I found on the inside of one of her wrist." She gestured to one of her own.

"Wait… You what?" Thatch exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know, those marks aren't really common but I didn't f—"

"No, not that. You took her bracelets off?" For the second time of the day, the fourth commander looked baffled.

Jillian sighed but looked him in the eye before answering. "I know you told me not to, but I did."

He opened his mouth but she cut him off.

"My check-up was over and the only thing left was the examination of her wrists. I know we both agreed on not removing her bracelets before the check-up, but it was over, Thatch. Not mentioning the fact that we needed to know if those bracelets were really made from seastone or not."

"Were they?" Ace asked.

"Yes, but it's cheap." She took one out of her coat's pocket and showed it to the assembly. "Those are beads of seastone inserted between similar beads that are not. I'd say they're made of onyx or something similar in color. Anyway, seastone is expensive so even this quantity should have cost her a lot. The downside is, it's less powerful than a bracelet entirely made of seastone. But considering she have two of those…" She waved the bracelet one more time. "I'd say it would be effective. In case she was using it as an inhibitor for her devil fruit abilities, assuming she have ones..."

Thatch sighed, leaning back in his seat, while she put the bracelet back in her white coat. "Okay. So I guess she didn't suspect anything?"

"Not exactly." Jill grimaced. "She woke up while I was still examining her bracelets, dazed and screaming, as if she was in pain. She snapped out of it finally and… She freaked out when she found out they were gone. She said she wanted her bracelets back, that she needed them, she begged even… And I would have given them back to her right away but she was too far gone. We had to sedate her to prevent a more severe panic attack."

Several sharp intakes of breath were heard around the table and her tone grew defensive. "Look, I didn't do it on purpose okay? That's not something I could have planned."

"And we know that, daughter," Whitebeard calmly intervened, "but it could have turned out more dangerous than it already was."

She shook her head in denial. "I had measured the risks already. There were low chances that it happened but it wasn't impossible either. The risks were reasonable."

"What about her character and attitude? Could she be dangerous, yoi?" Marco asked.

"It's hard to say... She seemed fickle. Scared yet defensive. I guess she could become aggressive if driven into a corner… But she didn't look that dangerous. We'll just have to be cautious."

"In any case, this woman might have quite the story, yoi." Vista finally spoke, raising his eyes from the bounty poster and showing it to the rest of the commanders. "Right there, it's mentioning they only want her alive."

"What? No way!" Izo took the paper from his hand and read it hastily. "Unbelievable… I'll see if I can gather some intel." He stood up gracefully as the captain was about to end the meeting but the snailphone from the sickbay rang, stopping them.

Jill picked up the small device on her wrist. "What is it Joan?"

The den den mushi's face morphed into a pained grimaced. "Doc! She got out!"

"What? You alright?"

"Almost. She knocked me out. Sorry."

"Don't worry. Get one of the girls to check on you and just stand by at the sickbay. The commanders and I will look for our escapee."

"Roger. Be careful boss, she doesn't look like it but she has a great strength."

Putting the den den back to sleep, Jill look at her captain expectantly.

* * *

When she woke up again, feeling slightly dizzy, her IV was gone and her right wrist felt heavier. Raising it above her head she saw her bracelet, as if it had always been there. She let out a relieved sigh. She could tell by the mere drain she was feeling that the other one was missing but that would do for now.

Now… Now she needed out. Whoever those people were they had taken care of her but she couldn't be too trustful. She had to leave as soon as possible. Rising from the soft mattress, she assessed her surroundings. Another bed and a wall on her left. On her right, a white curtain was slightly drawn, shielding her from the rest of the sickbay. The door to what should be a corridor was ajar, one more advantage for her escape. But she couldn't go out without her things. She needed her clothes too. She spotted them, folded on a chair, next to the door. Was it her lucky day?

Not hearing any sound, she carefully stood up, climbing down the bed and reaching towards the chair her folded clothes were laid on.

Focused on trying to get dressed, she didn't hear Joan approaching.

"Hey!" A hand grabbed her arm, forcing her to face the nurse. "What are you doing?"

"Let me go!" She felt dizzy. _Oh no... Not again_. She didn't have time for explanations. She wanted out. She needed to go out, by any means.

She struggled and the grip on her bare arm became firmer. As the flash of a smiling blond kid assailed her, she felt the nurse trying to push her toward the bed. Panic overwhelmed her once again. Resisting, she managed to free herself from the woman grasp. Not missing a second she hit the nurse in the stomach. Joan stumbled and she took this opportunity to have her in a headlock, making her kneel. Realising what was happening Joan squirmed trying to reach her attacker.

 _Oh no, not happening!_ The woman kept going and the headlock grew stronger. Her ears itched and she felt her strength increasing. Winded and gasping for air, the nurse fiercely clawed at her arm, in vain. Soon enough she collapsed.

Letting go of the now unconscious woman, she stood up and took the time to catch her breath. Wiping the sweat that had started to trickle down her face, she held a snort back. And she thought it was her lucky day…

Her ears itched again and she stopped herself from reaching for them, shivering. _Okay, new plan_. She would have to get her second bracelet back before leaving them. The effects were already starting to wear off. She couldn't afford to be weakened while on the run.

Quickly changing her clothes –her shoes were missing–, she started investigating the desks and closets but couldn't find the rest of her belongings, let alone her missing bracelet. However her eyes fell on an abandoned scalpel and she took it. That was a poor weapon but a weapon nonetheless. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it but she was aboard an unknown ship after all. _Desperate times and all that jazz_.

She checked on the nurse that was still out. Feeling she had been here too long already, she went for the door and began to run in the left corridor.

* * *

She was now facing a door, probably leading to the deck of the boat she was sailing on.

She didn't encounter anyone on her way, listening carefully for approaching footsteps. The doctor might have her last bracelet. She had to find her. She sighed, leaning against a wall, not really ready to open that door yet. Seriously, what had gotten into her? When did her panicked mind thought it actually was a good idea to flee that way? But what could she have done? Wait for the knocked out nurse to wake up and casually apologize?

There was no turning back. There never had been. Not since… Her spread fingers mapped the wall, her lips a thin line as something flowed back.

Snow all around, blood on her wrists, on her tongue.

She didn't want to face that.

It was as if each new footstep was erasing the last, leaving no imprint of the path she had been walking on. Denying her the possibility of ever going back. Sentenced to move forward until death ensues.

The scalpel nearly slipped from her sweaty grasp. _Never mind._

She forced herself to open her eyes, to reconnect with the present time. She exhaled and scanned the wall again. The seastone made it harder. _Good_.

Shouts echoed, the fluttering of something silky, a weird haircut. In any case those people, probably looking for her, had been heading the opposite way she was. She assumed the deck would be quite cleared for now and parting from the wall, she quietly opened the door leading her to the exterior.

The fresh and salty air assaulted her nose before anything else. Ten or so pirates were all over the deck, busying themselves with whatever a sailor needs to do. No doctor in sight, yet if she was stealthy enough, she might be able to look around for her paddleboat. Carefully treading on the wooden planks, she walked along the railing until she sighted it, yellow as ever, tossed around by the waves. A rope was fastening it to the ship.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. One less thing to worry about. She just hoped they weren't that far from an island, because her legs felt like lead already. Now she just had to find that doctor and-

"What do we have here?"

The woman almost jumped out of her own skin. Careless. Stupid. She had been too caught up to sense a crewmember spotting her. Spinning around she faced him, scalpel in hand, ready to defend herself.

"Oh, you'd better know how to use that girlie!" A tentative grin was on the pirate's face as he raised both his fists. Something on his knuckles caught her eyes and she blanched. Was that Whitebeard's symbol tattooed on each of his fingers?

 _Oh shit._ Okay. She didn't thought this through. But once again, when was she supposed to know she'd passed out while trying to save her life and freedom fleeing away on a freaking yellow paddleboat?

Okay, never mind, she better neutralise him quick and easy and jump for the exit, her belongings be damned. Raising her hand to hit him with the scalpel, they were both stopped in their tracks when someone burst through another door, followed by several men.

"You!" Jill said, pointing at her.

Her ears itched and around her everything froze. She suddenly seemed to have plenty of time to think about what to do next. Assessing her possibilities, she freaked out. It didn't look good.

They were already running toward her, looking rather mad. No missing bracelet in sight. She'd have no other choice but to use the threatening mode.

She only had a little window to act but when she seemed ready, time resumed itself. She took advantage of the shock of their crewmember when the doctor called her. Having him in a loose headlock, she calmly placed the sharp blade of the scalpel against his throat. She felt the short intake of his breath against the skin of her wrist. Her other hand was trembling when she grabbed the man's shirt to keep him closer. _No turning back, eh?_

They all stopped running but their expression turned harsher. A murderous aura reached her and she repressed a shiver. She couldn't give in, she couldn't falter, not now, not anymore, not ever.

She braced herself and said "I'm not intending to draw blood. Unless you force me to." A new wave of pressure and irritation hit her. She refrained from taking a step back. _Damned Haki users_. But she didn't get flustered and went on, "I just want what's mine back."

Pirates were surrounding her from a distance but the doctor walked toward her, hands raised.

"Don't take a step any closer," she said, pressing the blade against the pirate's throat more firmly. She felt him wince. "I want my bag and my second seastone bracelet. All my belongings. And then I'll leave."

Jillian stopped, her hand reaching into her pocket. "Okay. Let's—"

"No!" Marco's shout echoed on the deck. Emerging from the crowd, he stood in front of Jill, hiding the doctor from her sight. "We don't negotiate with people threatening our family."

His blue glacier eyes were freezing her to the bone but his words were absolute, exuding a burning confidence. Yet…

"A family? Don't make me laugh! How dare you label yourself a family when you're not doing anything when one of our so-called family member's life is at stake?" An equally burning anger laced her words. The remaining of something painful. She shook her head, trying to stay focused.

A hand was on Marco's shoulder as Jillian stood by his side, looking at her. "What's your name?"

She wasn't expecting that.

"I'm Jillian," she went on, touching her chest. The only response she got was a wary stare.

"Listen, if we wanted to, you'd be dead already." The doctor resumed, gesturing toward the railing of the upper deck, where Izo was waiting gun in hand, blowing his cover. "You're here, we're here. We're all stuck, and if we don't try to find some common ground it might get messy."

She paused briefly, before smiling. "I don't want it to get messy. So, why don't you tell me your name?"

An uncertainty was there before the white-haired woman opened her mouth. "I… I don't have one anymore. They beat it out of me. I'm Fenrir now." She said, holding her head high as if daring anyone to say anything about it.

"I'm sorry, Fenrir."

"I don't need your sugar-coating. I need my bracelet." She cut her off. "I want to go. You want me gone. You want some common ground? Here it is."

Jill refrained from showing her surprise. Somehow that determined and stubborn woman was more difficult to deal with than the frantic and frightened one she met this morning. But she could see it, the cracks in her composed façade. She was still frightened, gripping her hostage's shirt too tightly, frequently shifting her weight from one leg to the other. It was just a matter of time now. And Jillian was known for her patience.

"It's not that simple and you know it." She made a small step forward, leaving Marco's side.

"Of course it is! Hand over my belongings and I'll free…" She stopped midsentence, focusing on the pirate. She stared blankly into nothingness before blinking several time. "I'll free Barton from the Twelfth Division here." She nudged him.

Shock was painted on the pirate's face. "How did you—"

She didn't answer and Jill couldn't afford to get distracted. She made another step forward. "I can't do that until I have the assurance my crewmember is safe. Let Barton go first."

Fenrir made a step back, surprised and uncomfortable. "What? No! I can't trust a pirate's words. This guy is currently my only leverage!"

The doctor shook her head. "I told you. If we wanted to, Barton would be free and you would be neutralized by now. But that's not how we want things to go. Come on Fenrir, let him go." Another step thudding on the wooden floor.

"Why should I?"

The brown-haired woman took a calm breath. Now was the time. "Because you had all the time and opportunities to hurt him and yet you didn't. You're feeling forced to act threateningly in order to be heard. Well, I heard you. And I'm telling you, you're safe here. We won't harm you. I'll give you your bracelet. All you have to do is let Barton go back to his family." With each sentences she moved forward. Step after step. And Fenrir moved equally back, until her hip made contact with hard wood and she was forced to stop her slow retreat.

Not losing eye contact with Jillian, she explored that surface with one of her bare foot. She pictured the railing. No more escape then. Unless she was only left with the extreme measure of jumping overboard. But now more than ever she wasn't feeling up to it. Her legs were aching and so was the hand griping Barton's shirt. She wouldn't last long in those tumultuous waters.

Maybe it was because she was tired or because one seastone bracelet was definitely not enough to neutralize her power or maybe her bare feet had been pressing against the railing for too long but images and sounds flooded her mind.

Something warm and compassionate, blossomed in her chest. Laughs, cheers, running footsteps, clinking glasses. Dangling legs and a warm wind. _"Since you're joining our crew, I think we should be friends!"_ A hunched and bruised back against the thick wooden planks. _"Because he calls us his sons!"_

Unwanted tears pooled at the corner of her brown eyes. "Family?" she muttered, as if the word in itself was a daydream. Her feet found the floor once again and she blinked. What was she doing? Who was she fooling?

"J-just go already!" She pushed the pirate forward as the scalpel clattered on the wooden deck.

Hands were to her face and there she was. On her own. Facing angry pirates. What now? She shivered. Her tiredness finally reached her brain and she staggered, reaching the railing for support. A dizzy spell and it felt like her fingers were burning.

" _Stop!"_ Raging thunder, blades rattling, pained screams. Was she still on Whitebeard's ship?

* * *

Relief washed over Jill as Fenrir had finally freed Barton. Her crewmember had returned safely to his division's crewmates. Now she just had to show that woman everything was okay. She could still feel Marco's tension behind her. Haruta, Thatch and Vista were managing the crowd of pirates, trying to send most of them back to their initial duties. Her captain had finally gave into his curiosity and was overlooking the scene from the upper deck, Izo by his sides, gun still in his hand.

She expected Fenrir to be afraid, bewildered and deeply apologising by now but when she looked back at the white-haired woman she seemed completely out of it. She had grown paler and was clearing shivering. Her hand was gripping the railing and she was staring into nothingness once again, but whatever she was seeing wasn't good. She kept muttering something but Jillian was too far to hear it properly. And… Was the air rippling around her?

"Fenrir?" She grew worried by the minute and approached her. "You hear me?"

"Jillian." Marco called her, wariness in his tone. He surely had noticed something was off too. But she raised a hand toward him. It was fine.

"Fenrir?" The woman was still unresponsive but now she could hear what she was muttering, laboured breath and tears rolling down her face: "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…"

The joints of the hand griping the railing were turning white. Jill lost no time and took Fenrir's hand off it. No need to be a psychic to understand her powers were somehow linked to her sense of touch.

The air stopped fluttering around them as a strong gust of wind shook their hair.

* * *

She felt Jillian's strong grip on her forearm and her voice reached her ringing ears. "Fenrir, calm down. You're safe here. Calm down." She blinked several times finally seeing the wooden deck again.

She felt the wetness on her cheeks and the strain of breathing. And the characteristic itching of her ears. She couldn't stop herself. She knew already and yet… Reaching for her ears, she felt the fur and their pointy shape. A sob wracked her body.

And once again she gave in. All things considered, she didn't mind begging if it sent all of this away. "I can't control it. Please, I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to _see_ anything. I only want to make it stop," she said crying, looking at her shaking hands. Straightening her head, she looked at Jill. " _Please_. Make it stop."

The doctor didn't even need to be asked. She quickly reached for the seastone bracelet in her pocket and put it in the palm of Fenrir's hand. She grew up on an island known for extracting seastone from underwater deposits, some of the cobbled streets of her village were even made out of seastone like most of her jewels, and yet she could only imagine what it felt to be weakened by such a stone.

For most of Devil Fruit's users it looked like a nuisance, from a mere exhaustion to a downright helplessness. But Fenrir's face relaxed when her fingers tightened around the bracelet until it disappeared inside her fist. She looked like she was relishing in the drain she was feeling. And that's exactly what Fenrir was feeling. She was still standing, shivering, silently crying, but the emptiness she felt made her chest heaved with relief. _At last, at last. Alone with myself again_.

She could think more clearly now, realising the extent of the mess she made. She suddenly felt shy and ashamed. And afraid. Wondering what those Whitebeards' pirates would do to her now. The doctor said they meant no harm but could she trust those pirates? Trust was such a meaningless word.

Her hand holding the bracelet started to throb. She struggled a bit but finally tied it to her bare wrist, clutching it for comfort.

Jill was glad to see the woman was calming down. The Moby's deck was mostly silent now, and far less crowded than earlier. She felt Marco coming closer. Fenrir finally raised her head and met her gaze, eyes still watering.

"I'm… I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Shitty Mythical Zoan," she muttered.

"Wait? You're a Mythical yoi?"

She nodded. "And a failed one at that." She chuckled bitterly.

"What? How—" She shook her head this time.

"I just want what's left of my belongings and then I'll go." She sniffed, wiping the cold tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Okay," said Jill soothingly. If Fenrir wasn't shivering as badly as before she was now getting fidgety.

"I've been here too long. I shouldn't stop moving. They might have found me already." She gave a look on the horizon.

"They? Who are they?"

"Marines." Her declaration was met with silence and curious stares. "It's a long story that I don't want to tell."

"Deserter?" Marco was now standing by Jill's side. He needed to know. To quench his interest. To be sure they weren't letting a wolf in the sheepfold. Even if his brothers weren't the whitest sheep.

"Escapee," she answered seriously, meeting his gaze. The silence stretched for a bit before a laugh echoed. Thatch was by Marco's side, casually leaning on his shoulder, a wide grin on his face.

Of course it could not have been that easy. She could not just go that way.

"You're aboard a pirate ship, lady," the brown-haired man – _ah, the weird haircut_ – said. "There's no safer place to hide from the Marine!"

At the woman's dumbfounded expression, Jill smiled an indulgent smile. "Why don't you stay with us for a bit?"

"What? No!"

"Fenrir, you're exhausted." She was indeed feeling rather tired. Guess the doctor had a point.

"You went through a lot in a matter of hours, and like it or not you're currently in no shape to go back to the sea on your own. Let alone with that paddleboat of yours." She gestured toward the yellow embarkation. "For now you need rest and a bit more of some proper medical care."

Okay, several points it was… "But why can't you simply drop me off on the next island?"

Marco shook his head. "We're heading toward an important meeting and we'll be there in three weeks. We just stocked up on the last island we visited so the next stop has been planned in two weeks, yoi. We can't reroute our ship for you or we'll be late on our schedule. Yet…"

"You're Whitebeard's guest until our next stop," said Whitebeard intervened, going down the upper deck's stairs. He looked her in the eye, silently daring her to say otherwise, before resuming his walk toward his massive wooden chair when she said nothing. Yeah, the Captain definitely liked making such outstanding entrance.

What an intimidating man, Fenrir thought. But something was bothering her sluggish mind. "You set me up from the very beginning uh?"

"What if we did?" Jillian wondered, unabashed. Fenrir shook her head, a small smile grazing her lips. "Come now!"

Fenrir was about to move when the man aiming at her earlier, apparently a cross-dresser, went down the stairs too, showing the wobbling paddleboat. "We'll have to get rid of that. Way too noticeable."

"We're sailing on a gigantic whale-shaped ship, Izo." Marco said.

"Yes. Indeed. But it's clashing with Moby's style!"

Fenrir shrugged while following Jillian through the door leading to the sickbay.

"I stole it anyway."

* * *

A/N: I've been living with this story for almost a year now, struggling to put words on it. This is only the first part and I have most of the ideas for the second one already but I probably won't write it now. I need a fresh start! And it begins… Today. :)

But for now, I'll go editing all the typos and mistakes I've found in the previous OS while rereading them.

Thanks for popping by.  
Take care of yourselves,  
Lily.


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